Shiori Gaiden
by Catgirldstr11
Summary: The story of Amegakure's Hanzo, his wife (my OC, Shiori), their teamwork, rise to power, and their ultimate downfall.
1. Chapter 1

Suddenly in front of them, a kunai exploded. Shiori and her companions closed their eyes as they shielded themselves from the blast.

 _When it rains, it pours_ , thought Shiori even though it wasn't raining. If she had any control over the weather at all, she'd make it monsoon. It was the only thing missing from this scene. As the dust settled, Shiori and her two escorts stood motionless and tense in the center of the path surrounded by dense forests, miles away from the nearest village. Before them stood three masked men and their leader. Her rejected suitor, the man who had proposed to her just two days ago, come to kill her.

"Shiori," came the emotionless voice of Danzo, "we've orders from the Fire Daimyo to eliminate you." Shiori's guards, Yamanaka Takuto and Hyūga Meroko, leapt in front of her with raised kunai.

"Danzo," shouted Takuto, "you must be mistaken. To think the Fire Daimyo would order the assassination of his own sister is madness." Shiori wished she could believe that.

"We are currently escorting Shiori-hime to her magistrate seat in Kitamachi under orders _from_ the Fire Daimyo." Danzo and his henchmen remained unperturbed. "It is not my position to question the Fire Daimyo's direct orders," said Danzo, narrowing his eyes at Shiori.

Shiori narrowed hers right back, recognizing the razor sharp censure behind his words. It had been her brother's wish for her to marry Danzo, his favorite Leaf shinobi. Shiori recognized the move for what it was, a ploy to keep her under the Daimyo's thumb through Danzo. Ever since Shiori's father had passed and her brother elevated to Fire Daimyo, the two had rarely agreed on policy or administration. Or marriage. While she felt friendship towards Danzo, she could never accept him as her partner in life. His actions always appeared to have a second motive, and she never felt that she could truly trust him. She hadn't for one minute believed that his proposal was anything more than her brother's ploy. Refusing Danzo's offer had only incensed her brother and resulted in her magistrate assignment to boring, backwater Kitamachi. As she'd feared all along, the assignment had been a front for her brother's more sinister intentions. Boring Kitamachi was sounding better and better.

Shiori's thoughts were interrupted when Takuto's voice entered her head. " _Shiori. We need to get you out of here_."

" _Have you spoken with Meroko_?"

" _Yes. Meroko and I agree that as soon as Danzo or Root makes a move, we should escape. You are to follow me. Meroko will be our rear guard._ "

" _There are too many of them, and there's no way we can outrun Danzo - I fear that you and Meroko will be overpowered having to guard me. And without my kekkei genkai, I'm less than useless._ "

Shiori's kekkei genkai was really the cause of all her problems. Ever since she discovered she could produce and was impervious to flame, her brother had feared her. She couldn't blame him for having her sealed. The daughter of a Fire Daimyo, a family which hadn't produced a shinobi for centuries, is suddenly blessed with a fire and earth kekkei genkai. Who wouldn't see that as some divinely inspired right to rule the Land of Fire? Not that she wanted to. But many advisors and shinobi thought she could do a better job. " _Don't bother shielding me. If the Fire Daimyo's orders are to have me killed, you should not interfere and risk his anger - or your life._ "

" _We're with you to the end, Shiori_."

Danzo began to speak. "Yamanaka Takuto. Hyūga Meroko. Stand down and return to Konohagakure. You have no part in this."

Meroko's grip tightened around her kunai. "We've protected Shiori for this long. We will not abandon her now!"

"Then you betray your village and face Shiori's same fate." Danzo raised his arm. "Get them."

"Let's go!" shouted Meroko. Two of Danzo's men launched themselves in pursuit. Takuto grabbed Shiori's arm over his arm and took for the trees. Though Shiori was never trained formally as a shinobi, she had learned at least enough to run for her life. "Takuto! Where are we going?"

"Meroko and I think the best plan is to press on to Kitamachi!" Shiori shook her head. "That won't work. Kitamachi is a full day away, but I fear Danzo will catch up to us at any minute. We can't shake _him_. We can't simply run blind."

Takuto knew she was right. "Any ideas?"

"I have one, but you won't like it. If we travel west and cross the border into Amegakure," explained Shiori, "Danzo and his men will not follow us. Danzo would dare extend the conflict there. Especially after the leaf's border treaty with Amegakure."

Takuto shook his head. "Out of the question. Amegakure has the strictest border patrols I know of, and were we to encounter Rain shinobi, we'd be captured or worse."

Shiori clenched her raised fist in opposition. "We would not have to travel through Amegakure for long, and as long as we stick close to the border, we can easily slip back into Konohagakure. I agree that our ultimate destination should remain Kitamachi. I have both friends and supporters there who can offer us some protection."

Takuto looked unconvinced. "Very well. But we will stick as close to the border as possible and retreat to Konohagakure at the first sign of trouble. If Amegakure learns of our presence, it will be a diplomatic disaster."

"Takuto!" shouted Meroko from behind, "two of Danzo's men have disappeared on either side! I think they're planning to outrun and block us!"

"How about Danzo and the other Root shinobi?"

"I believe they're heading straight for us, though they may be waiting for the two others to stop us, dividing our attention from both the front and the rear."

Takuto cursed under his breath. "Then we'll keep Shiori between us at all times. Let's switch places. I'll fend off Danzo and the second Root member, while you break through the Root shinobi barrier. Our immediate goal is to pass through the Amegakure border." Meroko's eyes widened in surprise, but said nothing. As soon as the two shinobi switched places, Danzo's men appeared from either side. "They've caught up to us!"

"Let's finish them quickly Meroko, before Danzo catches up! Shiori, once Meroko and I have these two distracted, run ahead of us and continue towards the border."

As the two Root shinobi closed in, it became clear their initial target was Meroko. "Ninja art, Jukenpo!" shouted Meroko as dealt a series of blows to one of the Root members, wreaking havoc to his chakra paths. Suddenly, the second Root shinobi appeared from above. Before he could land to a hit to Meroko, the Root shinobi was immobilized in midair. Meroko turned her head to witness Takuto's mind control technique restrain the airborne shinobi. "I can't let you have them both Meroko! Where's the chivalry in that? Shintenshin no Jutsu!" The Root shinobi's eyes widened as Takuto supplanted his subconscious. "This one's stalled for now!" came Takuto's words from the mouth of the Root shinobi. "Shiori, keep running!"

Meroko's opponent jumped back to distance himself and block Shiori. The Takuto-controlled shinobi countered him with clashing kunai. "Shintenshin no Jutsu," Danzo interrupted, "a poor choice for this fight." The Root shinobi disappeared for a moment, only to reappear next to Takuto's limp body. _So fast!_ thought Meroko. _Even after I've disabled so many of his chakra pathways!_

"I've fought beside the Yamanakas in battle. Your body is defenseless as long as this technique is active, leaving it susceptible to attack." The Root shinobi unsheathed a blade to strike. Takuto withdrew from his root opponent, but not fast enough to miss the Danzo's blade graze his chest. Taking advantage of the Takuto's withdraw from the Root shinobi, Meroko gave the shinobi a killer blow to the heart with her gentle fist. "Hold on Takuto!"

Before Meroko reached Takuto, the Root shinobi took off in pursuit of Shiori. "Meroko," gasped Takuto as he attempted to stand, clutching his chest. "Follow Shiori!"

"Too late." The third Root shinobi suddenly appeared behind Meroko, poised to strike with his tanto. Meroko jumped back to dodge the impact as Danzo appeared, racing forward past the action.

"Takuto!" shouted Meroko as the Root shinobi attacked again with his tanto, "Danzo's headed toward Shiori!" "Leave it to me," said Takuto between clenched teeth, flinching from the pain as he began to run. Pressing forward, he could hear the blood-curdling screech of metal against metal.

The tree line separating Konohagakure from the Amegakure plain was in sight. Shiori ran towards faster than she had ever dreamt possible. Every step she resisted the urge to turn back to check on her escorts. However, she knew she would be less than helpful and run the risk of throwing away their sacrifice. She steeled her heart and pressed on, only then to spot a Root shinobi blocking her way, kunai raised. Shiori stopped, realizing somehow that running would be useless.

"Shiori, it's over," came a voice from behind. Shiori turned to see Danzo, and all thoughts vanished. Danzo walked forward until he stood before Shiori. His eyes were unreadable. It was perhaps the one thing that had always unnerved Shiori the most about him, but never to this extent. He raised a kunai to her throat. "Things didn't have to end this way, Shiori," said Danzo softly.

A small wave of guilt and sympathy rippled through Shiori. Danzo, despite his role now, had been her friend. She assumed that he proposed at the urging of her brother, but never considered that it might actually been his wish as well. Still, as much as she respected Danzo, she could never marry him. "I'm sorry, Danzo," Shiori stated calmly, searching his eyes. "If it does have to end this way, please, spare my friends, if it's not too late."

Danzo's eyes suddenly darted from hers, sensing a motion behind them. "Shinranshin no Jutsu!" Takuto appeared, and leapt to the ground as he ensnared Danzo in his jutsu. Danzo's eyes widened and his body went rigid.

"Danzo!" shouted the Root shinobi. "I'll take care of this." The root shinobi charged for Takuto. Before reaching him, Danzo came down on the Root shinobi, impaling him with his tanto. The Root shinobi died instantly. Danzo's body straightened and once again turned rigid.

"Takuto! Shiori!" called Meroko as she emerged into view. Shiori ran to her. "Meroko! Are you injured?"

"Not as badly as Takuto, but I'm out of chakra from that last fight. My Byakugan's no use to us now."

Shiori's brow furrowed in concern. Meroko was mostly unscathed, with the exception of a few scrapes and tares, but there was no doubting her exhaustion. Meroko would need time to rest in Amegakure before traveling to Kitamachi. Probably a full night's rest. Shiori shuddered at the thought of a night behind enemy lines without Meroko's Byakugan for lookout.

"Takuto," called Meroko, "have you captured Danzo?"

"Yes," gasped Takuto, "but not for much longer! I'll withdraw my jutsu, and you-"

"That won't be necessary," said Danzo as he sheathed his tanto. Takuto's eyes widened in disbelief. He fell to his knees. "How did you - but - my jutsu . . ." Danzo turned to face Takuto. "Your jutsu failed. I was out of your range."

Meroko gasped. "You killed your own Root shinobi? What's going on?!"

Shiori met Danzo's stare. "Danzo? You planned this?" Danzo continued to stare at her in silent affirmation. For the first time, Shiori thought she did see something in his eyes. A mixture of anger and longing. He took one step toward her.

"You stay away from her!" shouted Meroko as she charged Danzo. Moving faster than any of them could comprehend, he delivered a blow to Meroko's stomach, knocking her backwards into a tree. "Meroko!" called Shiori as she ran towards Meroko and dropped to her knees next to her.

"Don't misinterpret my actions as weakness. Hyūga, you are out of chakra, and Yamanaka is gravely wounded. Your lives are in my hands now." They knew he was right. "You can't fight. But can you walk?"

"What?!" gasped Meroko.

Danzo turned his back to them and began walking. "Take her to Kitamachi through Amegakure. I assume that's your plan. I will say that you escaped to Amegakure. Be swift, before more of the Fire Daimyo's assassins reach Kitamachi."

"Danzo," choked Shiori as she raised herself to stand. "I'm sorry." Danzo didn't stop or look back. Shiori, Takuto, and Meroko looked on as Danzo disappeared from sight.

"He must care about you a lot, Shiori," said Meroko between coughs. _Could that be true?_ For the first time since Danzo's proposal, she felt regret for hurting him.

At Hidden Rain Headquarters . . .

Two shinobi sit side by side on a tiled floor in concentration. Their eyes are closed and their hands held in tiger signs. "Kanzo. Did you feel that?"

"Yes. Three intruders, one with powerful chakra. I will alert Lord Hanzo." Kanzo vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

Once inside Amegakure, Shiori, Takuto, and Meroko slowly wound their way along the Konohagakure tree line, pausing only briefly to bandage Takuto's side. Though uncomfortable in enemy territory, Shiori couldn't help but appreciate Amegakure's other-worldly beauty. Where the tree line stopped, a grassy plain stretched for miles before receding into the distant mountains. No structure, man, or creature was in sight. As the sun set, the uninterrupted sky was painted shades of peach, pink, and gold.

However, as the sun lowered in the sky and darkness began to fall, Shiori observed Takuto's pace slacken. He would soon need to stop for the night.

"Takuto, Meroko. Let's stop and rest here. We're in no condition to go forward tonight."

Meroko and Takuto paused. "Shiori is right, Takuto. If the Fire Daimyō's assassins reach Kitamachi before us, we won't stand a chance against them in our current condition."

Takuto nodded. "Alright then. But we can't sleep exposed in the grasslands. We'll have to head closer to the tree line." The group reached the treeline by nightfall. They ventured into the lush forest only a small ways, ensuring that the grasslands were still in view in case their enemies returned. Takuto frowned and flinched as he plummeted clumsily to the ground. "We're deeper in Amegakure than I would have liked."

Shiori nodded. "We'll head straight for Konohagakure tomorrow morning. I think we've traveled far enough in Amegakure." A drop of rain landed on Shiori's nose. She smiled and sighed. _Here comes my monsoon_.

Suddenly, Meroko stood and tensed. "My chakra is still low, but I sense something coming with my byakugan."

Takuto grunted, lifting himself. "Shinobi?"

"I don't think so, something larger. And it's fast!" Takuto and Meroko surrounded Shiori, raising their kunai.

"Where is it, Meroko?"

"I–I don't know . . . Where did it go?" Meroko gasped. " _BELOW US!_ "

Meroko, Takuto, and Shiori jumped out of the way just in time before an enormous, reptilian creature sprung from the earth. Shiori and her friends' eyes widened. Within seconds, the massive creature–the largest salamander Shiori had ever seen–stood fully unearthed before them.

 _Could this mean . . . ?_ Shiori laughed in denial and disbelief. "No. Not possible. The worst thing in the world that could possibly happen . . . couldn't possibly happen . . . not today . . ."

The salamander opened its mouth to reveal a cavernous mouth. Suddenly, they were all engulfed in a purple haze. As the fumes engulfed Shiori and her company, they broke into a fit of coughs. Takuto grabbed Shiori's wrist, leading her from the vapors. "Poison fog. We need to run!"

"We can't!' shouted Meroko in between coughs, "we're surrounded!"

Sure enough, Takuto and Shiori turned to see twenty Hidden Rain shinobi closing in behind them. Shiori's head flipped back and forth between the shinobi and the salamander, unable to decide which escape would be the more deadly. When her eyes landed again on the salamander, blood drained from her face. A large man carrying a kusarigama stood atop the salamander's head.

Though a bulky respirator obscured his face, Shiori knew he could be no other. " _Sanshōuo no Hanzō_ ," she whispered in fear and awe. Ruler of the Hidden Rain and, rumor had it, the strongest shinobi alive.

Hanzō jumped from the salamander, landing in the midst of its poisonous gas. Shiori gaped. The legends surrounding him had not done him justice. He was very tall, easily towering over them all, and solidly built. His slate undershirt stretched over his massive biceps. A grey vest barely served to contain his barrel chest. Shiori had to lift her head to view his face. The steel respirator framed his face and a pair of angry, golden eyes embedded in dark sclera. Between the shinobi behind her, the salamander above her, and the man in front of her, Shiori decided the latter was by far the most dangerous.

"Shinobi. You are trespassers in Amegakure," the newcomer barked. _Hanzō's voice sounded as fierce as he looked_.

"Lord Hanzō," said Meroko making a shallow bow, "We are sorry to have trespassed into your territory."

Hanzō's eyes narrowed interest. "Those eyes–so you're a Hyūga. You must be Leaf shinobi then. Your presence here violates the non-trespass provision of the Treaty of Edo Bridge."

"My lord - we are the escorts of Shiori, sister to the Fire Daimyō. On our way to Kitamachi, we were ambushed. Our plans were to travel alongside Amegakure's border until we reached safety in Kitamachi." Hanzō turned his attention to Shiori for the first time. His gaze paralyzed Shiori as he quickly summed her up from head to toe.

"Lord Hanzō," she bowed, struggling to regain composure, "I understand the gravity of this offense and will not be naive enough to ask you to let us go free without some reparation. However, as entering Amegakure was my idea, I insist that I bear full responsibility for violating the treaty. Konohagakure respects your jurisdiction here, and does not wish to challenge your sovereignty. Please excuse my escorts for wrongdoing on my behalf."

Hanzō regarded her silently for a moment. "Very noble, little hime. But you are right that I cannot simply let you go. You and your companions will remain here as I discuss this with the Hokage and Fire Daimyō. We also have some . . . _questions_ for the Hyūga. Restrain them," Hanzō ordered.

Shiori turned to Takuto and Meroko and lowered her voice to a whisper. " _Leave now_. We can't let the Rain lay hands on either of your techniques. I've put your lives in danger enough today, and now the Leaf's secrets are at risk too. Let me create a distraction while you escape."

"Impossible," frowned Meroko, shaking her head. "Leaving you here to die would be even worse than abandoning you Danzō."

"You must. My life will be in no danger here until the Hokage and my brother have their say. If this nation has any civility whatsoever, I have some sovereign immunity." Shiori tugged at her gloves till they fell to the ground. On both palms were seals.

Meroko gasped. "Shiori! You don't mean to–you know that won't work."

Meroko was right. Shiori had no logical reason to think her plan would succeed. She had not been able to create a single spark since the sealing. Her only reason for believing herself capable was simply because there was no other way, _seals be damned_. " _Just go!_ " Shiori shouted as she charged into the poison cloud toward Hanzō.

"Do as she says Meroko!" shouted Takuto as he and Meroko took off in pursuit.

 _Tora-tori-tatsu_ . . . _please let this work_ , thought Shiori as she channeled chakra to palms.

Hanzō's eyes widened in surprise. "You're challenging me?!"

Shiori was close enough to touch him. She contracted her arm to punch. "Takuto, Meroko, _GO!_ "

Shiori punched, Hanzō catching her fist in his palm as her hand erupted in flame. An explosion followed as the poison gas around them ignited. Hanzō leapt backward to avoid the flames while Takuto and Meroko made their escape for Konohagakure. After her shock began to subside, Shiori stumbled through the flames, her vision clouded by strands of unbraided, blonde hair. Pain ignited everywhere as the salamander's poison spread through her bloodstream. Distantly, she felt her body retrained by metal chains.

 _A kusarigama! Which means–_ Shiori turned just as Hanzō landed and yanked the kusarigama's chain, drawing her before him. As Shiori stumbled forward, Hanzō grabbed her shoulder to steady her and raised her chin to look him in the eyes. The effort of moving amidst the pain coupled with his massive height made her eye's journey from his chest to his face endless.

"An impressive display, hime. I did not notice your seals before. You may be no ordinary daimyō, but you're no match for me."

Shiori could barely understand his words. "Defeating you . . . impossible. I was just . . . helping my friends," she gasped.

Hanzō's eyes narrowed. "Friends? You daimyō think you perpetuate shinobi existence through your patronage, that your chores are our reason to live. Shinobi are nothing but tools to the daimyō! And once we die and break, we are thrown away and replaced."

Shiori shook her head weakly. Though dizzy with pain, she was overcome with awareness of the man holding her. Awareness of how small she felt in his arms. Awareness of the rocklike bulge of his arm muscles holding her and of the strength of his big hand lifting her chin. He could crush her without thought, yet he held her with surprising gentleness.

And then there were his eyes. Golden eyes unlike anything she'd ever seen. The fire surrounding them danced across them. _She had been foolish to play with fire when he clearly had more mastery over it than she did_.

"That's not true at all . . . I'm the one who is expendable."

Hanzō's face softened in surprise. "You helped your escorts escape. Why?"

"There will always be someone next in line to take the throne, but there will never be enough willing to selflessly give up their lives to protect it . . ." Shiori began to feel the world slip from underneath her feet before she could finish. _When it rains, it really does pour_.

Then there was nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Hanzō caught Shiori before she hit the ground. The flames from the explosion had sufficiently died down for his men to reach and surround him. "Lord Hanzō," Kanzo called, "is everything alright?"

Shiori's flame had burnt Hanzō's palm, but his attention was distracted by the woman in his arms. "No. Bring me a respirator, quickly. This one needs a medic as soon as possible."

"Yes. And the Leaf shinobi? I've sent team to pursue them."

"Leave them," said Hanzō, eyes never leaving Shiori, "we will reward her valor by sparing their lives. And, Kanzo?"

"Yes?"

"Send a message to the Fire Daimyo and Hokage, telling them to meet here in three days."

"Sir."

Shiori lay on an Amegakure Hospital examining table covered by a white sheet. Her long, butter blond hair pillowed her head. Close inspection revealed minor cuts and scrapes and signs of exhaustion, but even so, thought Hanzō, there was something ethereal about her, her blond locks and hazy purple eyes. He wished he could inspect the rest of her. . .

"Lord Hanzō," announced the doctor, breaking Hanzō's less honorable thoughts, "we've neutralized the poison in her system, but her current unconsciousness is due to her physical exhaustion."

"And the seals?"

"Only on her wrists. I hear she can use fire jutsu? That seems impossible given these strong restraints."

 _It would be difficult_ , thought Hanzō. _Impossible for anyone less than a shinobi. It looks like she's had some training to control this kekkei genkai. Whatever it is, someone must view her as a threat to have her sealed_. "And her chakra levels?"

"Normal, sir."

 _So the Hyuuga had been the one Kanzo detected_. Losing her was a minor disappointment, but gaining the Fire Daimyo's sister as leverage more than made up for her loss. "Inform me when she wakes."

"Yes sir."

Hanzō exited the hospital. Kanzo was waiting for him outside. "The Hokage and Fire Daimyo have been notified, sir, and are on their way."

"Good."

"What are you planning?"

Hanzō continued walking. "Come with me. I have some idea, but I have some questions for the hime first."

Kanzo followed Hanzō into the officer's tent and kneeled at the table across from Hanzō. Hanzō unrolled the region's map and began to study it. "My Lord, should I organize our men in preparation for conflict at the meeting?"

"Yes. I don't want conflict with Konohagakure right now. I would prefer we secure the south before taking on the east, but unpreparedness is one's greatest enemy. We should be ready for anything." _So much was at stake over one little girl_. Hanzō needed to tread with caution. For years, Amegakure had been at the crossroads between Konohagakure and the other shinobi nations and consequently, the site of countless conflicts. The Leaf wrought so much destruction unintentionally, it worried him to think of what they might do launching an intentional war. That day would inevitably come, but until then, Hanzō needed to rally more of Amegakure's men to his side to stand a chance.

"Kanzo, what do we know about this Shiori? Why is she here?"

"Lady Shiori is the Fire Daimyo's younger sister. I believe she's eighteen, so there's a slight age difference between the two, but no shortage of sibling rivalry. Some political parties in Konohagakure view her as the better face of the nation."

Hanzō folded his hands under his chin in thought. "An assassination attempt seems likely, then. That would push her here, to Amegakure."

Kanzo nodded in assent. "If you send her back to the Leaf, it will be her death sentence. However, the Treaty of Edo Bridge requires blood or sufficient reparation for any breach. The Leaf may wish to use us as a secondary means of executing her."

Hanzō nodded. "It would accomplish the assassination, keep the Leaf's hands clean, and make us the villain."

"It sounds like either way, they win."

"Not quite." Hanzō plucked a shinobi piece from the map. He gazed at it thoughtfully in his palm. "It only takes one person to alter the course of a nation."

Kanzo laughed lowly. "I hear you have some experience with that!"

Hanzō ignored him. "The Leaf has thrown away something potentially valuable. We will keep this piece for ourselves," he said as his palm tightened over the smooth stone. "I think the Leaf has undervalued this one. Konohagakure's loss with be Amegakure's gain."

The first thing Shiori noticed when she awoke was that her vision was blurry. She was lying on her back, on a firm mattress. Her body was no longer in pain, but still stiff and sore. She was in a hospital, dressed in a standard, white hospital robe. She heard a voice, a nurse.

"My lady, how are you feeling?"

"Weak."

"You should expect to feel that a few more days. Ibuse's poison is quite powerful."

"Ibuse?"

"One moment, there is someone who would like to see you." As Shiori began to wake, memories crashed down upon her in waves. Hanzō had spared her, for now at least, but were Takuto and Meroko safe? And how long had she been asleep? Shiori tried to move, but found her limbs very heavy.

"Lady Shiori, give your body some time to rest before you try to run again," instructed a bemused voice. It took some effort, but Shiori turned her head to the speaker. "I'm Kanzo. Lord Hanzō's assistant. He would like to speak with you later this afternoon."

 _In this condition_?, thought Shiori. _How mortifying._ It wasn't as though she was in any position to argue, though. "Thank you, Kanzo. Please tell me, do you know what has become of the two shinobi who were escorting me?"

Kanzo smiled thoughtfully. "Lord Hanzō allowed them to escape to your country. I think it's his way of complimenting you." Shiori's eyes widened in surprise. "He will arrive in about an hour. Please ask the nurse for anything you need."

Kanzo bowed and walked at the room, leaving Shiori alone to ponder what she knew of Hanzō. There were so few survivors after his encounters that it was sift fact from fiction. He had already obtained legendary status - before the age of 30! From what she knew, his family had not always been in power. Amegakure had been embroiled in civil war as long as anyone could remember with no apparent leader in sight. But then, Hanzō had appeared from almost nowhere. Once he had, however, word traveled quickly of an undefeatable shinobi who left no survivors, who breathed poison and road the king of salamanders. Most of Amegakure united behind him as the stories spread. As Hanzō's influence and power grew, foreign leaders grew weary. Amegakure, sandwiched between five nations, was a place of perpetual battle. Not only was it at war with itself, it also waged war with the countless nations traveling through it to attack enemies on the other side.

Shiori frowned. No wonder Hanzō enforced the Treaty of Endo Bridge so zealously. Internal strife gave him enough to worry about without the additional problem of about outside invasion. Consequences of the breached treaty would therefore likely be dire. _Especially for her_.

Hanzō entered the hospital promptly an hour later with some misgivings. While Shiori displayed some regard for shinobi life, he expected her to be tainted by the feudal lord's haughtiness and sense of entitlement. His plan could potentially backfire if he discovered she was like every other daimyo he'd ever encountered.

Hanzō strode into Shiori's room. It was small and crude, but the largest the backwater shinobi hospital on the border line had to offer. If this bothered Shiori, she didn't show it. Shiori lifted her head slightly upon his entrance, regarding him wearily. His gaze lowered, taking all of her into account. She was sitting, or rather, propped up by several large pillows and managed to make even her unfortunately shapeless hospital gown look alluring.

"Lord Hanzō, please forgive me for not standing to greet you." Shiori smiled weakly. Hanzō noted her eyes looked tired. He doubted she could support herself at all. "You're lucky to be alive. Ibuse's poison mist makes victim's bodies numb within moments. Had you not been given the antidote, you would have died long before now."

"Ah," she gasped as her smile turned genuine, "Ibuse is your salamander."

"Yes."

"In Konohagakure, we call Ibuse the 'Salamander King.' Legend has it you tamed him in Hell and rode him up into the land of the living."

Hanzō raised an eyebrow. "That's how I remember it." Shiori flashed him a white smile. It took his breath away.

"Lord Hanzō," she relaxed slightly against the pillows, "thank you for saving me. But I cannot thank you enough for sparing my friends."

So she knew about that. "Your humility saved them. I've never seen a Daimyo risk his life for a shinobi. I respect the sacrifice you were willing to make for them." Talking to her, Hanzō couldn't help but notice how small and fragile she looked from his height. Absently, he took a seat at the end of her bed. Shiori's eyes widened a little at the close proximity, but soon joined him in relaxing her posture. She drew her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her chin rested on top of one knee. "Your move was risky. You couldn't have been certain that the mist was flammable, and with your hands sealed as they are, I doubt you were certain you could use your kekkei genkai."

She tilted her head to the side in a cat-like motion. "No. I wasn't certain. But we needed a distraction, and I somehow knew the fear I felt for our lives could overpower the strength of these seals." Shiori lifted her palms and regarded them warily.

"Seals, assassinations. . . it sounds like someone's out to get you, little hime. Who is it? I need to know if whoever this is will pursue you here and pose a threat to Amegakure."

She was silent for a moment. "I can assure you that you have no cause for concern."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"If I tell you will you keep this information strictly confidential?"

Hanzō's eyes narrowed at her evasiveness, "I make no promises. And I'll remind you that your response is not optional."

After another brief moment of silence, Shiori continued. "Assassins with orders from the Fire Daimyo." Hanzō's eyes widened. It was a weighty accusation. If word got back to Konohagakure, the Fire Daimyo would be vilified. Depending on Shiori's popularity, civil war could break out between supporters of the siblings. "You are sure of this?"

"Yes. My brother and I have never been close. As children, we were both rivals for our father's affection. And since our father's death, he views me a threat to political stability."

"Are you?" Hanzō asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shiori shook her head. "I am not the fire daimyo, nor have I any desire to be. And I do not contest that he is a talented leader. I only fear that his policies lack foresight and will only perpetuate war."

"If your brother truly is the culprit, then it's doubtful he'll send assassins here. Your father was the one who initiated this treaty."

Shiori nodded. "It's why we fled here. My party and I only intended to follow the border, paralleling our original route until we were close to Kitamachi." Shiori's hands gripped her surrounding sheets. Her brows furrowed as she raised her head from her knees. "My lord, this situation presents an excellent opportunity for my brother to finish what he started. He will likely insist that you take my life as reparation for the broken treaty. For once, I agree with him."

Hanzō's face remained unreadable. "You don't seek revenge against him then?"

"No. The Leaf faces enough international strain without the added risk of a civil war. My life alone isn't enough to risk national unity."

Hanzō was pleased his intuition hadn't failed him. His original estimation of her had been accurate. She was everything the daimyo were not, putting the future of the nation above her own interests. He wondered if her indifference towards power made her better suited for it. As Hanzō turned the idea over in his head, he realized there were ways he could improve as a ruler himself.

Shiori lay the backs of her hands on her lap, regarding her sealed palms. Hanzō's eyes followed hers. "The work of your brother as well?"

"Yes."

"Does your brother possess this kekkei genkai?" Shiori shook her head. "No one in our family does. Once my father died, my brother asked the Leaf village to seal my abilities."

"He's a fool then. You should have been trained as a shinobi. Villages are too quick to throw away their kekkei genkais out of ignorance and fear."

She nodded. "It's easiest to destroy and condemn what you do not understand." The way she looked at him when she spoke led him to think that she was talking not only about herself. If so, she was right. His entire life he'd spent hunting those who hunted him, those who feared his poison.

Hanzō stood. He'd heard all he needed. Shiori was as principled as she was courageous and beautiful. His instincts screamed that Amegakure needed her as its queen. His body indicated it wouldn't mind as well. "So. You're willing to throw your life away on a technicality if it has the smallest chance of protecting Konohagakure. Very admirable. However, I propose another option I hope you'll find preferable. If you return to Konohagakure, your brother will most likely find a way to kill you. If knowledge spreads of this assassination attempt, the Leaf will be further divided. It's in your best interest to remain in the Rain."

Her head tilted to the side. "As political prisoner?"

"As my wife." He waited for her reaction. The surprise that flashed across her face vanished quickly.

Her eyes narrowed and mouth parted slightly. The unbidden thought, _say yes_ , passed through his mind. "Why would you do this?" she asked incredulously.

"My power here in Amegakure is not yet fully secure. By marrying you, I would gain recognition from the other shinobi nations, and consequently my people, as supreme ruler here. I could also use your diplomatic skills . . . and your kekkei genkai."

Shiori lifted her hands. "You mean you can remove these seals? You'd train me to become a shinobi?"

"Yes."

At that, something changed in her eyes. While she'd appeared to be concentrating earlier, her expression now seemed resolved.

"My Lord . . . I hardly deserve this after breaking international law and causing you so much trouble. But . . . I accept." Her smile betrayed both her relief and gratitude. "I would be honored."

Hanzō had no idea whether she'd say yes. He could understand many wanted to take their lives rather than be bound to him. Her acceptance pleased him more than he'd anticipated. Didn't she fear him? Even if she did, was she still willing to stay with him?

"Before you commit yourself, hime, consider this. Amegakure is not the Leaf. Battles are fought here, not abroad, and frequently. We are constantly at war and frequently targeted. As my wife, you'll likely be targeted also. There is also this," Hanzō touched his respirator. "A salamander's venom sac inside me infuses my breath with poison. I wear this respirator to filter the air to protect those around me. However, if you should ever come across me when this respirator is off, you may not be as lucky as you were in your brush with Ibuse."

Shiori remained unperturbed. "I've faced death so often this past week, I've become immune to fear of it. My answer still stands."

Hanzō nodded. "Very well. I will convey this information to your brother and the Hokage when we meet in three days."

"My brother is coming here?"

"Yes."

"In that case, may I introduce him to Ibuse?"

Shiori couldn't see it, but Hanzō smirked and turned to go. Hanzō departed feeling a vague premonition that the tide of change had just turned dramatically in his favor.


	4. Chapter 4

Danzo cast a glance at the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, across the table. Tobirama was in a foul mood. No doubt he was enraged at both Ayame and Danzo for the botched assassination. Danzo, Tobirama, and Hiruzen had planned to convene with Ayame early before the summit to prepare for the worst. A broken treaty with the Hidden Rain was almost certain to lead to war unless this meeting could stop it.

"The Daimyo doesn't know you spared Shiori intentionally?" Tobirama asked, not bothering to look his way.

"Yes," Danzo answered simply. So, Takuto and or Meroko had survived to inform the Hokage. _It didn't matter now_.

The Hokage nodded. "That's best for now. Danzo, your hand in this is disgraceful, but Ayame trusts you. I would like to hear from you if he ever tries anything like this again."

"Sir." Entrance of the Fire Daimyo muted their conversation. Wordlessly, the Daimyo kneeled before the round table. "Gentlemen."

Tobirama's eyes narrowed. "My Lord, before we meet with Hanzo today, I feel we should prepare for the worst and consider all possible outcomes." Ayame simply nodded. The Hokage continued, "I fear our most likely choices will be either war with the Hidden Rain or the execution of your sister."

"If that's the case," Ayame yawned while looking at his nails, "I see no need for conflict. Shiori knows the law and is prepared to face the consequences of breaking it. I doubt she'd want the nation to go to war for her sake."

Anger flashed across Danzo's face and disappeared almost instantly, but not quickly enough to escape Hiruzen's notice. Danzo composed himself before speaking. "My Lord, if we leave Shiori to the Hidden Rain, there's a chance they could unseal her kekkei genkai and use it to their advantage."

"If I remember correctly Danzo," Hiruzen interjected, "weren't you the one who sealed her? What exactly are her powers, and where did they come from? Kekkei genkai must be inherited from somewhere."

Ayame shifted uncomfortably. "Not this one. Maybe it's not a kekkei genkai at all. You heard Hiruzen, these things don't come from nowhere. My family's line hasn't been able to wield a single jutsu since the dawn of history."

"Lady Shiori . . .," Danzo proceeded carefully, "is capable of a fire release technique that, when unsealed, can set her entire body on fire."

Tobirama rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. Is it possible she's illegitimate?"

Ayame scowled. "I will not have you making such inferences concerning my late mother. Shiori is a monster, a mutant. As soon as the Rain realizes this, they'll probably do away with her before negotiations start."

Hiruzen frowned. "Hanzo likely already has some idea of her abilities. Whatever her secret is, the Rain will exploit it to their advantage unless we retrieve her."

Ayame shot Danzo a venomous glance. Danzo expected a lecture from him later. He was rightfully furious that Danzo had failed his mission to assassinate Shiori. Danzo clenched his fists. _What was wrong with him?_ He never disobeyed the Daimyo or the Hokage. He never went against what was best for Konoha. _So, why couldn't he do away with one little girl?_ The thought of her arrested him, transporting his thoughts to another time and place altogether.

Danzo won the trust and friendship of Ayame long before he'd laid eyes upon Shiori. Ayame thought and felt exactly as he did; to win Konoha's war, the Leaf needed to make sacrifices for the greater good. It needed science and forbidden techniques to gain the upper hand. They had struck a deal. Danzo would be the Daimyo's liaison and informant. In exchange, Ayame would support Danzo's candidacy for Hokage.

And so it was that Danzo became the Daimyo's secret agent, assassinating shinobi and political threats to the Daimyo alike. That was why Danzo wasn't surprised at all when Ayame summoned him to seal a kekkei genkai. What he hadn't expected, however, was that the kekkei genakai's wielder was his sister, Shiori.

He sealed away her abilities that day, but had regretted it ever since. Not only was it a tactically bad decision, Shiori's skills were unusual and potentially useful to the village, but even more than that, he feared she'd blame him for what he'd done. To improve her opinion of him, he began to teach her basic ninjutsu to replace what she'd lost. The more time he spent with her, more certain he'd become of her usefulness to him.

Then, Ayame had offered him the unthinkable: Shiori's hand in marriage. The transaction would eliminate Shiori as a political threat by putting her under the supervision of Danzo, while symbolically positioning Danzo to be the future Hokage. As he feared, it had all been too good to be true.

* * *

 ** _3 weeks earlier . . ._**

Danzo exited the wood-side pavilion elated, as though a great prize was in his grasp. The pavilion opened onto a grassy meadow before retreating into dense Konohagakure forest. The fading twilight saturated the green of the grass. He had waited to seek her out at this hour for that very reason. Well, that and to find her here alone.

Danzo made his way toward the archery range where Shiori was practicing with her bow. Danzo could see from the number of arrows within the hay targets compared to those on the ground that she'd had a successful practice. His heart filled with pride. This is where it had all began, he thought, where he taught Shiori to string a bow and won her trust. _And where she had won his heart_.

Shiori spoke without turning to glance at him. "Not another step you, or you'll ruin the best run I've ever had. Let me have this one afternoon without your ' _constructive criticism_.'"

Danzo didn't stop. "My lips are sealed." Shiori snorted. Danzo watched as she pulled the bow string, paused momentarily to feel the speed and direction of the breeze, and let go. The red feathers of the arrow flew straight, leaving ephemeral trails of fire in their wake. The arrow struck the target on the border of the bull's eye and its outer circle. Shiori couldn't hide her victorious smile before it faded to a haughty, sideways grin as she turned to him.

"Very good," he said taking an arrow from her quiver and threading it onto the bow, "but if we were at war and you'd taken that long," his hands helped hers draw the string, "we'd be dead by now." Danzo and Shiori let go of the arrow and watched it hit the bull's eye dead-center.

Shiori tilted her head upward and gave him an imperious glare. "Even so, I'd have no regrets. I've lived a good life."

"You're only eighteen."

"I said good, not long." Shiori removed the quiver from her back. "Besides, isn't war what I hire you to do for me?"

"Yes, but I can't help but think that you'd like a piece of it yourself. And, despite my 'constructive criticism,' I do think you'd make an excellent kunoichi."

"Hm. I could do a lot more good that way than here as the Daimyo's little sister."

Danzo's face turned serious. "Would you really like that? To become a kunoichi?"

Shiori laughed. "Me, a kunoichi? Starting at this age? With his physical stature?" Shiori's arms motioned toward her petite form.

Danzo took hold of her hand and raised her arm, inspecting her biceps. "We've already started you on some training - running, archery. It would be work, but you'd enjoy it. And those seals can be removed, you know."

It was Shiori's turn to become serious. He realized the gravity of what he'd said. Up till now, he hadn't told Shiori the answer to the unspoken question that remained between them. He could undo what he'd done to her. But if he did, _it would be on his terms_.

"You can do this." It was a statement more than a question. "And if you did, what would my brother do or think? Find another person to seal me away? What would it mean for you?"

"It wouldn't mean anything to him if you moved to the Hidden Leaf. You'd be out of his way and free to do as you pleased. You could serve Konoha in ways you've always wanted."

Shiori massaged her wrists over the visible seal he'd left. "My brother would never allow this. It would be a scandalous embarrassment for him."

"Not if you were under my protection."

Shiori's confused face shot upward to look him in the eye. " _Your_ protection?"

 _This is it_. Danzo leaned in, closing the gap between them. As he drew near, he clasped one of her hands in his own and used the other to touch her face. "Marry me, Shiori. I can give you all the freedom you've ever wanted." Danzo used her stunned silence as an opportunity to tilt her chin to his face and press his lips against hers.

Later, he would reflect upon how the greatest moment of his life was followed by the worst. Shiori jerked her head away too soon has she levered herself away from him by pushing on his chest. "Danzo, stop, I - this is all too soon."

Danzo had anticipated her surprise, but not the feeling of panic blossoming in his chest. "Forgive me, Shiori, but I've waited so long to ask you this. Please know that this isn't some fancy of the moment. I've already obtained consent from your brother. What I said was true. You'd be free to lead the life you wanted in the Hidden Leaf. I could teach you things there that you'll never learn, or have the chance to use here. Please let me do this for you." Danzo reached for her again, but Shiori shrank back.

"Please stop." Her expression contained both confusion and alarm. "Please, understand, I'm honored and flattered by your feelings, but cannot return them. I am not ready for marriage and don't feel I am best suited to be your wife."

Fury supplanted Danzo's panic. "And why is that?!" Danzo demanded as he gripped Shiori's wrist and pulled her close to him. Her eyes widened in fear and anger.

"Danzo, you are a dear friend, but in many ways, you're just like my brother. Married to you, I'd be every bit as under his control as I am now."

Danzo's grip tightened. " _Your brother?_ This has nothing to do with him!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Danzo was shocked to discover they were true. Shiori had been his end objective even before her brother had suggested the idea. She had increasingly become a part of his future plans to point where now, the prospect of losing her through all promises of future security into the air. "Don't try to tell me you have no feelings for me."

Shiori closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. "Danzo, I am sorry. I just don't want our relationship to change." Danzo released her wrist, turned, and began to trudge away.

"It just did."

* * *

Danzo roused himself from his thoughts. He noticed Hiruzen watching him closely and realized he'd been frowning. Fortunately, Ayame had not noticed. He likely had no inkling that Danzo had let Shiori go in the first place. Throughout Danzo's musings, Tobirama and Ayame had continued their discussion.

"Even if the Rain does demand Shiori's life," Ayame argued, "I fail to see any great harm it could cause. What's more dangerous to us is an angry Amegakure. The weight of one life can't account for the loss of an army of Shinobi."

Tobirama's eyes narrowed in disgust at Ayame's lack familial loyalty. "If that is what you've decided. Very well. We will prepare to negotiate for Shiori's life and return to the village. If that fails, we'll do what we must to avoid further disaster."

* * *

Tobirama, Danzo, Hiruzen, and Ayame, escorted by a small army of Leaf shinobi, ventured to the grassland border of Konoha and Amegakure. Still morning, Danzo could feel the cool vapor rising from the grass. A solemn silence had fallen over the party. This ground for centuries had been carpeted in the blood of countless conflicts. Danzo feared he'd be unable to stop further flow of bloodshed today.

Danzo turned his attention to the shinobi behind him. Among them were Hyuuga Meroko and still wounded Yamanaka Takuto. Their eyes narrowed at one another as they made contact. _So they'd told Tobirama_. But evidently they hadn't told anyone else of the botched assassination. He supposed he should be grateful.

Many men began to appear through the mist. The first man to appear, Danzo figured, had to be Hanzo. Danzo's blood ran cold. He'd heard stories, but the man was larger than life. His respirator covered nearly his entire face, rendering his expression unreadable. His raised forehead protector cast an angry shadow over his features. Every aspect screamed dominance. Between Tobirama and Hanzo, Danzo couldn't place his faith in Tobirama winning for sure. A bead of sweat slid down his face.

 _This man has Shiori. She must be terrified_. Danzo's anger surged. How dare this man threaten what he'd sacrificed so much to protect.

Danzo stood by the Fire Daimyo as Tobirama and Hanzo approached middle ground. Ayame's usual board demeanor was replaced by tense annoyance. However, his mask poorly concealed his terror. Of the entire assembly, only Tobirama appeared composed enough to stand as Hanzo's equal. "Hanzo," he spoke without emotion, "how good to see you again."

"Don't take it personally, but I'd hoped it wouldn't be so soon. Last year you sent your shinobi through my nation. This year, you send your princess. Is this your idea of upholding our treaty?"

"Lady Shiori. Where is she?"

"Recovering from the adventure which led her here." Hanzo's eyes glared for an instant at Ayame before returning full attention to Tobirama. Though the Daimyo merely sulked in return, his pale skin turned nearly translucent. He began to fan himself though the air was still chilly. "She is well, for now."

Tobirama's eyes narrowed at the threat. "On behalf of Konohagakure, I apologize for this incident. The Leaf is willing to make reparation to you within reason for the breach. Take into consideration, however, that this incident was an accident rather than wanton disregard and disrespect for Amegakure. What are your terms?"

Hanzo's arms folded across his chest. "You know the provisions as well as I do. The treaty grants the injured party the blood of the trespassers."

Tobirama frowned. "Surely her blood means nothing to you. It would result in outcry amongst the Leaf, possibly war itself."

"Then I will grant you a compromise."

"Speak your terms."

"I demand her blood. But not that it be spilt. That is, unless you would prefer it to."

"You will allow her to live?"

"In Amegakure, yes."

Tobirama's eyes narrowed further in suspicion. "What good is she to you in Amegakure?"

"My terms are these. Lady Shiori will be allowed to live if she remains in Amegakure as my wife. Otherwise, she will not be allowed to leave alive."

The Leaf shinobis' eyes widened in shock and outrage. Hands clenched into fists, Danzo took a step forward before being arrested by a still-calm Hiruzen. Danzo felt enraged.

 _He would destroy this man_.

Tobirama remained unperturbed. "Your terms are more than fair. However, I see what you're trying to do. Handing Lady Shiori to you is effectively a stamp of approval from the Leaf. You want us to recognize you as the rightful ruler of Amegakure, _don't you?_ "

"Don't forget I've given you an alternative solution."

"Of course. But this is not my decision to make. I will allow Shiori to make the ultimate decision."

"Then it's settled. She has already consented to remain here."

Danzo's chest tightened. _Impossible!_

"I ask to verify this information from Lady Shiori herself. If true, the Daimyo and I also demand to witness the ceremony and that the marriage be conducted in Konoha."

"Fine. Kanzo-" Hanzo motioned to one of his men, "send for the fire hime." At length, a kunoichi escorted Shiori from the crowd of Rain shinobi. She wore a somber grey robe and her hair braided. Though tired, she appeared calm and unafraid. "Lord Hokage, how good it is to see you," she bowed.

"Lady Shiori," Tobirama returned the bow, "would that it have been under better circumstances. Has Hanzo made clear to you the optional reparations for trespassing against our treaty with Amegakure?"

Shiori nodded. "Yes, and I have accepted to remain in Amegakure. Rest assured I reached this is my autonomous decision and that I am satisfied with the conditions."

Behind him, Danzo heard a choked sob. It was Meroko. She cupped her hands to her mouth as tears flowed down her face. Takuto placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Danzo was in denial that any of this could be happening. _How could she choose that monster? Over me?!_

Tobirama nodded. "I am satisfied. Hanzo, I request we hold the ceremony tomorrow and that Shiori returns with us for the day to prepare."

"Very well, but we wed at dawn." Tobirama nodded in affirmation as his hand gripped Hanzo's in agreement.

Danzo supposed he should be grateful Shiori was safe for now. Instead, he realized he'd rather see her dead than in the clutches of that monster.


	5. Chapter 5

Shiori sat up in bed. Pale light illuminated the panels of her unfamiliar room. After the summit, she had returned with her brother to Hiji, a Konohagakure town near the border of Amegakure. Here she would marry Hanzō and return with him to Amegakure. _Today_.

As she roused, memories of the past few days washed over her in waves. Just as she recovered from the anger and horror she felt remembering her brother's actions, they were replaced by sensations of relief and joy at finding herself still alive. It wasn't exactly what she'd hoped to feel her wedding morning. Of course, she wasn't too disappointed or sad that she'd never have the chance to experience a romantic courtship. Knowing all along that her marriage would be a political arrangement, she'd never expected it in the first place. She smiled, thankful those eighteen years as hime had taught her to have no expectations in picking the partner of her life. Her brow furrowed. _Wait_ , she thought, _well that's just sad_.

Shiori's pity party was suddenly crashed by a sliding door panel. Her handmaid Tomoko bustled into the room with a tea tray. Two other handmaids carrying boxes followed. The latter two laid their packages before Shiori's bed, bowed, and stepped out the room. Tomoko kneeled before Shiori and began to pour tea.

"You must be so excited!" shouted Tomoko a little too brightly. "They say Hanzō's the strongest shinobi there is, and you'll get to be a queen! Of course, that means I won't get to see you much anymore and we won't have tea like this in the mornings, but I just know you'll find someone who probably talks less to serve you tea, but I really will miss you!" Though Tomoko's smile was frozen on her face, tears began to stream from her eyes.

Shiori's heart beat painfully. She would miss Tomoko. And her life in Konohagakure. "You're irreplaceable Tomoko," Shiori reassured her, squeezing her maid's hand. "And I'll visit as often as I can." _Which might be never._

"I hope you can! But I keep talking - I need to focus! Nine o'clock is such an early time for a wedding, don't you think? It's a shame you have to leave so early and not have a reception for all your friends to see. Do you know if you'll have one in Amegakure? I don't know anything about weddings there. But Hanzō will want to show you off I'm sure!" Tomoko lifted the larger package. "This is your dress! I hope it looks like your drawing! The seamstress must have worked so hard all night to make it so quickly. I can't believe it's already time for you to put it on!"

Tomoko reverently opened the package until a pool of dark blue silk appeared. Tomoko stood, lifting the dress by the shoulders to its full length. "Oh wow . . . you chose blue! How unusual! But I guess that makes sense because you're going to be the first lady of Amegakure and it rains so much there. I . . . just hope this won't make your brother angry . . ."

Shiori slid Tomoko a sly half-smile. "Oh it will. Anything untraditional is unacceptable to him, you know. Help me put it on." Shiori lifted her arms as Tomoko slid the dress over her. The seamstress had followed her instructions perfectly. Her white sleeves were color-blocked by dark blue silk piping and bodice. The silk clung to her body intimately, plunging into a deep v-neck over her chest which disappeared in the folds of her waist. Once dressed, Shiori inspected herself approvingly in the mirror.

Tomoko's eyes widened, her mouth parting slightly in concern. "Wow, that's a really low neckline Lady Shiori! It's gorgeous - especially on you - but I'm really worried what your brother might have to say about it!" Shiori busied herself with untying the second package while Tomoko stood wringing her hands in worry. The second box was smaller. Opening the lid, Shiori lifted her matching tsunokakaushi.

Tomoko slapped her hands against her face in horror. "Oh no! My Lady! I forgot to ask you what kind of underwear you'd like!" Shiori almost dropped the hat. "Just tell me now and I'll let the seamstress know and we'll have some made right away! I'm so sorry! It's such an important tradition - well I guess it's the most important - but I'm sure Hanzō thinks you're gorgeous even without anything special - but of course all your underwear is special - that is - "

"It's alright Tomoko." Shiori was crimson. "I'll manage. . . I'm sure." _That's right._ Her wedding night. Of course she'd thought about it, but she didn't have much frame of reference for thinking about it, for which she was truly grateful. There was also the added complication of Hanzō's, how to phrase it delicately, _condition_. It was a conversation she did not look forward to having with a man she'd known for only a week.

But like her wedding, Shiori didn't find herself dreading her wedding night either. While she worried over ceremony and dress, she figured that Hanzō would arrange plans for that night. _She trusted Hanzō_. She also had to admit that she'd like to see more of him. Hanzō was larger than life, ripped beyond any man she'd ever seen. And he certainly wasn't unhandsome from what little his respirator revealed. _Quite the opposite, really_. There was nothing refined or classical about his features-from the deep-set eyes hooded beneath his heavy brow, to the strong nose widened at the bridge where it must have been broken a time or two -yet the combined effect was raw, masculine perfection. It dawned on her that she couldn't think of anyone she thought handsomer.

"Actually Tomoko," Shiori blushed, "I hate to ask the seamstress any more favors, but if she could make some by the time we leave . . ."

Tomoko pumped her fists in enthusiasm. "You can count on me my lady!"

Soon after, the maids returned to style Shiori's hair and makeup. They twisted her hair and fastened it into a low, sideways bun. Afterwards they pinned her tsunokakushi. Shiori smiled at their surprised faces at the sight of her low-cut, blue ensemble. If they and Tomoko were any indication, her brother would be furious. It would be her last brazen stand against him, albeit a weak one. And hopefully Hanzō would enjoy the view.

* * *

Once finished dressing, Shiori joined her sister-in-law, Yuka, to go to the temple. Yuka was dressed in a black kimono, her black hair tied up in a loose top not. Her red lips and nails contrasted dramatically with her pale white skin and red eyes so dark, they almost looked black. She was beautiful, but unapproachable - even to her son, the future daimyo Sutoku. Yuka lived in her own world and rarely left it to join the land of the living. Today, however, must have been one of those rare days. "Why Shiori," smiled Yuka bemusedly, "how charming you look. I see you've chosen blue to honor Amegakure. A wise decision. I suggest you endear yourself to Hanzō as soon as possible for safety's sake."

Shiori ignored her commentary. "Is it time?"

"Umhmm," said languidly, unfolding her fan. "I'm sure Hanzō will want to whisk you away as soon as possible. Let's go."

Shiori followed Yuka to the temple, her two maids and Tomoko trailing behind. At the front door to the temple, two monks bowed and opened the double doors. Shiori stepped inside the dimly-lit temple. It was small, but beautiful. The walls were colored with elaborate, delicate embroideries. At the front of the temple was a modest shrine covered in candles and fruit offerings and cups of sake. Beside the altar was her future husband. When their eyes met, embroideries were forgotten.

Hanzō was dressed the same as the day she'd first met him - his flak jacket and cape. His expression was hidden by his respirator, but Shiori noted with satisfaction that his eyebrows were raised. Seconds passed. Her thoughts were interrupted by a low cough from beside her. Her brother had approached from the dark recesses of the temple room. She then noticed that several others were in attendance as well; the Hokage, his pupil Hiruzen, Sutoku, Kanzo, and several other representatives from Konohagakure and Amegakure. Danzo, fortunately, had failed to make an appearance.

Her brother stood beside her. "Sister, allow me to present you." His hard eyes betrayed his civil words. As they walked he chided her in a whisper, " _What is the meaning of this insolence Shiori? You mock this occasion, your future husband, your nation, and most importantly, me. We'll see how long Hanzō will tolerate your defiance_." Shiori returned her brother's words with a cold stare. Hanzō watched them approach closely. At the altar, Shiori's brother released her and returned to the wall of the temple where he was joined by Yuka and Sutoku. Sutoku sniffled. Shiori then noticed his eyes, red from crying. Her only regret about this entire affair would be leaving Sutoku to face the rest of his childhood with _them_. Turning her attention to the front of the room, Shiori lifted her eyes to Hanzō and then lowered her gaze once she noticed his eyes hadn't left her this entire time.

A priest joined them to begin the purification rite. All present bowed. During the prayer, Shiori regained courage enough to look in Hanzō's direction. This time, his eyes concentrated on the ground in front of him. For the first time, Shiori questioned her apparel and hoped that it had not displeased him.

When the prayer concluded, the priest looked hesitatingly at the sake cups on the alter. There were three cups in three sizes, small, medium, and large. Only the largest was to be sipped, but come to think of it, Shiori had never dined with Hanzō. Did he eat in front of people? How could he if his breath was fatal? For the first time that morning, he spoke. "Leave them. We will perform that later." The priest bowed in relief and terror.

"Yes, of course my Lord. You may now read your wedding oath." The priest handed Hanzō a scroll.

Unrolling it he read "This woman, I marry no matter her health; I will love this person, respect this person, console this person, help this person until death, protecting fidelity, I swear."

It was the same oath Shiori had heard at every wedding. Yet, she was shocked how loud it spoke to her as Hanzō read. Granted, every word he's ever spoken to her had been delivered with absolute conviction. His voice brought the words to life.

Once Hanzō ceased speaking, a shrine maiden bowed and presented Hanzō and Shiori with sakaki branches to represent the end of the ceremony. Shiori and her now husband bowed and clapped their hands twice. The priest then presented them with rings to exchange. Here, the priest paused nervously once again. It then dawned on Shiori that this was typically time for the wedded couple to share their first kiss. It was something Hanzō would undoubtedly be unwilling to do.

 _How tired he must be of awkward situations like these_ , thought Shiori angrily. She had only known him a week and was already frustrated with the way everyone tiptoed so cautiously around him. _Couldn't they see past the monster the stories had made him?_

Shiori preemptively lifted Hanzō's hands, still intertwined with hers from the exchanging of rings, to her lips. Hanzō was visibly taken aback. Yuka and the shrine maiden let gasped. _What's one more scandal today? I can't possibly get myself into more trouble than I'm already in._ As long as Shiori deflected all the negative attention away from Hanzō to herself, she found she didn't mind.


	6. Chapter 6

With ceremony concluded and toasting cups emptied of their sake, Hanzo and his company readied to leave. They would travel back to Amegakure on foot and arrive by late afternoon. At sunset, he would introduce the city to its new queen. _If there was a sun to set_ , Hanzo thought, observing the dark clouds drifting Amegakure's way.

Though the marriage ceremony was complete, the most important step was yet to come. Tonight all of Amegakure would know that Konohagakure, by giving him their princess had recognized him as Amegakure's sovereign. It was his most significant international recognition yet and would be a huge step towards unifying the Rain.

Hanzo turned to locate his new wife. A servant assisted her mount a decorated white horse. Once mounted, she clasped the reigns expertly and caressed the horse between its ears. _Lucky horse_. While he had gained a queen and a political boon, Hanzo hadn't forgotten that he had also just come into gained a woman. And she was stunning. The neckline of her dress dipped mockingly between her small breasts, and the light silk of her dress molded to her sculpted legs. It surprised Hanzo that Shiori had chosen not to ride sidesaddle. Hanzo was no expert in hime behavior, but that couldn't be proper etiquette.

Hanzo fought hard to conceal a smirk at the look on the Fire Daimyo's face when he beheld his sister in all her rash glory. Evidently Shiori had engineered everything about today to be subtly audacious to spite her brother. Except the kiss, he thought. _That was for me_. A marriage ceremony presented a host of challenges for someone who couldn't breathe unfiltered without poisoning the room. But she had come to his rescue, throwing proprietary into the wind and stealing attention from him with her scandalous kiss. Warmth filled him at the recollection of her lips on his skin. Hanzo always trusted his instincts, but something about that moment confirmed to him that this union was fated.

"Ah-hem." can a nervous voice from behind him. A girl who Hanzo recognized as Shiori's maid approached him and bowed. In her hands she clutched a box so tightly the center began to crease. Her knees were shaking. She was so terrified, he realized, she couldn't stand up to face him.

"M-my Lord," she said shakily, body still bowed over, "I just wanted to congratulate you - Lady Shiori's a truly beautiful person both inside and out and I didn't want anyone to give you the wrong impression that she's rude and insolent - well - I guess what she does can come off as disrespectful at times but it's only because she's trying to prove a point and not all people think she's a scandal waiting to happen - very few actually - so I just wanted you to not worry about her causing you any trouble! In fact-" the maid said finally rising to her full height - "you couldn't have found a better queen! Lady Shiori is brilliant, talented, and kind and will be a great friend to you I'm sure!"

It was if her terror of him had vanished. Her faith in Shiori had emboldened her, Hanzo realized. "Why have you placed such faith in her?"

The maid's expression became serious. "Because even though Lord Ayame is daimyo, Lady Shiori is the will of Fire." Before having the chance to ask her to elaborate, the maid's face reverted to its cheery smile. "Oh - I almost forgot - this is one last thing for Lady Shiori. Would you please give it to her?" Hanzo took the crumpled package from the maid's hands, which she quickly retracted and used to smooth the back of her hair. "Well I should get going back to Lady Yuka! Haha, it is an honor to meet you my Lord!" Bowing profusely, she retreated backwards quickly towards the Fire Daimyo's party.

Hanzo turned his attention to the box left by the awkward girl. Curious, he lifted the lid. Inside he found an assorted pile of black silk and ribbons. _Shiori would be a "great friend" indeed_ , Hanzo thought rubbing the sensuous silk between his fingers, _as soon as he ensured she wouldn't light him on fire in his sleep_.

* * *

When Hanzo joined his party, Shiori's family and servants assembled to see her off. Her eyes locked icily with the Fire Daimyo's. "Sister," he recited with palpable insincerity, "allow me to congratulate you on your marriage and wish you as much felicity in your own as I have found in mine." Shiori's eyebrow raised dubiously. "Allow me to also gift upon you some final words of advice. Though you leave your homeland now, you owe a duty of dignity and loyalty to the Land of Fire. Any act of impropriety will be a disgrace to both nations. I have every confidence that you are capable of such dignity if you endeavor to try."

 _Enough_. Hanzo moved to stand between the feuding siblings. The daimyo and Shiori's horse each took a step back in unease. "Careful Daimyo. Your instructions are no longer hers to obey. In the future, I advise you not to give orders to my people." The daimyo stepped back further, affronted. Shiori's surprise quickly faded into a slight smile. He had returned the favor.

* * *

Hanzo and his company arrived at Amegakure by late afternoon. Because he led the front, he did not have much chance to speak to Shiori, but she seemed too preoccupied to mind. Doubtless she had never seen anything like the Village Hidden in the Rain. Spires connected by a thread of bridges disappeared high into the low clouds that enveloped the city. Amegakure's capital was stratified, literally, with the top echelon occupying the penthouses and the lowly traveling upon the ground. The top echelons had been empty for many years. Constant warfare had destroyed Amegakure's infrastructure and agriculture leaving the nation impoverished. Until Hanzo unified the country, it would be hard to alleviate its economic crisis.

Downtown, a crowd had already formed around the main avenue. Kanzo had sent word that Amegakure's new queen was to be presented that evening. The people of the Hidden Rain were understandably curious what kind of wife Hanzo would choose. Or rather, what woman would marry him. Two people would be especially curious - his parents. As Hanzo, Shiori, Kanzo, and several men ascended the steps to the center tower, Hanzo's parents waited for them at the summit. Would they be disappointed he'd married without their knowledge? Hanzo shrugged. Their opinion didn't matter to him. Their presence in his life was mere formality.

The top of the stairway entered into a long hallway, off of which was the penthouse receiving room. Before entering, Hanzo offered his arm to Shiori. She gracefully looped her right arm through his and then surprised him by resting her left on his forearm. She couldn't possibly be repulsed by him and stand with him like this. They might actually pass as a couple.

The doors to the penthouse room opened. Hanzo's parents stood in the middle of the room ready to receive them. Hanzo's mother, a thick-boned woman dressed in a grey kimono, gave Hanzo a slight bow in recognition and then turned her eyes wearily to Shiori. Hanzo's father, a tall slender man smoking a pipe and wearing a similar cloak, slapped his forehead dramatically.

"Hell! Look at you two! Hanzo, my son, congratulations." His father turned toward Shiori. "And my lady," he said with some awe, "welcome to Amegakure." He removed the pipe from his mouth and kissed Shiori's hand. "Haha, this is wonderful. Wonderful! You've landed yourself a hime. And a fine one too," he said winking at Hanzo suggestively.

"Enough. Shiori, my father Susumu and my mother, Mariko."

She gave his father a radiant smile. "Thank you Father." Shiori turned her attention to Mariko. "I'm honored to both meet you and become part of your family," Shiori said, bowing.

"None of this ceremony!" shouted Susumu a little too loudly. "As soon as this meet and greet is over with, we'll have to have a celebration! Sake! Music! Haha, don't worry though Hanzo, we won't let the festivities run too late."

Mariko had remained silent until now. "Hanzo, your people are waiting to see you now. I suggest you go to them."  
Hanzo led Shiori from the room and back into the hallway. "This way. The balcony is on the other side."

"My lord?" asked Shiori.

"Hanzo," he said looking down upon her. She smiled and it felt like his heart stopped for a moment.

"Hanzo," she corrected herself, "your parents, are they shinobi?"

"No. My father and mother were farmers."

"So you didn't learn ninjutsu from your parents?" she asked surprised. "Amazing. They must be more proud of you than you can ever imagine." Her eyes were soft with admiration. He didn't know what to say and couldn't identify how he felt. The number of sensations she produced in him was disconcerting, as if he adjusting to some change in gravity.

"Perhaps." Hanzo stopped them before the sliding window. "I will introduce you to Amegakure now."

"Are we expected to speak?"

"No. This greeting will be brief, but long enough to send a message to all Amegakure. One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to smile." Shiori wrinkled her nose and bared her teeth in a horrible grin.

"Yes, just like that," said Hanzo, his voice dripping in sarcasm. She'd made him smile again.

Kanzo slid open the glass door to allow Hanzo and Shiori onto the balcony. The outdoors reverberated with the voices of the crowd below. Every square foot of the ground was occupied by person and oxen. The daily rain had ended rendering the sky clear for an orange sunset. As Hanzo and Shiori approached the balcony, the crowd began to erupt in cheers. Shiori flashed her largest smile and began to wave. _I wonder_ , Hanzo thought observing her performance, _will the will of Fire ever truly embrace the Land of Rain?_

* * *

After a quiet dinner, asides from Shiori's questions and his mother's terse replies, Hanzo instructed a servant to show Shiori to her room. Shiori raised her brow in silent inquiry. The box of black silk that haunted him all day was apparently on her mind as well. Regrettably, their wedding night would have to wait until he both trusted her and was sure he wouldn't harm her. "That will be all for tonight, Shiori."

Shiori nodded, smiling politely. "In that case, goodnight m - Hanzo."

Hanzo nodded, not accustomed to being wished goodnight. "Meet me here tomorrow morning. We'll see what we can do about those seals."


	7. Chapter 7

Shiori awoke the next day with a start. A light rain pelted the window, blurring the red lights from the surrounding skyscrapers. Though it was early, probably around 6:00 AM, the city had already risen and was hard at work. If she listened carefully, she could hear the wheels of ox carts and voices from the streets. Shiori glanced around her surroundings. The red lights cast shadows around a minimalist, unfamiliar room. She bet that under her grey blanket she was completely camouflaged.

One by one, the events of the previous day returned to her. For the first time since her ordeals began, she allowed herself a few tears as shock and the gravity of recent events crashed upon her like ocean waves. Her brother's betrayal; exile from Konoha; and finding herself completely alone in what just days before she'd considered enemy territory.

Of course, she wasn't technically alone. Hanzo was her husband now. The thought of him distracted her from her tears. Despite the improbability of the situation, and with what she knew of these Amegakure shinobi, she felt safe with him. Not just because he'd saved her - though that was part of it. It was something in his voice and noble bearing. In the calm authority that resonated with every word he spoke and in the regal pride with which he carried himself. At least for now, she trusted he meant her no harm.

And it seemed that trust was well placed. Sensitive to her feelings of powerlessness and upheaval, he had not taken her last night. He respected her.

Shiori turned over what she knew of him in her mind. He was fascinating. While she'd never believed most of the lore surrounding him, she was finding the truth more fascinating than fiction. His parents were farmers, common laborers. Yet somehow, he'd risen through the ranks as a shinobi and was quickly and singlehandedly bringing an end to Amegakure's civil war. Not to mention taking the shinobi world by storm. He was an icon. Everyone knew his name, yet no one knew much about him.

Shiori's arms folded behind her head. She had so much to learn about her husband and her new home, and now a lifetime to learn it.

* * *

Shiori, now fully dressed, was inspecting the city from her window. There was much to see. Amegakure was a congested mass of twisted steel buildings, pipes, neon lights, and tunnels. The advanced infrastructure of the buildings contrasted greatly with the primitive scene on the ground. Evidently technology had not trickled down to the proletariat. Farmers and laborers traveled on foot or by oxcart. Their clothes were a style she could only guess was vogue in her parent's youth.

Although the surrounding buildings were stories high, the residence Hanzo occupied was a modest twenty. It was wide, taking up nearly a full city block. Though shaped like a traditional home, it too was decked in neon lights and contorted pipes that decorated the city.

At length, Shiori heard a tap at her door. Tearing her face from the widow, Shiroi bid the knocker enter. An athletic-looking, green-haired kunoichi slid open the door and leaned in languidly.

"Hey, you're awake," she said smiling. Her voice was very deep, almost masculine. As she entered the room fully, Shiori was surprised by her height. It only took three steps for the strange kunoichi to reach her. She leaned to the side and observed her closely. Shiori inspected her with equal curiosity. After a moment, the corner of her mouth turned up in a sideways grin. "You're tiny. I bet with some training, you'll be pretty fast."

Shiori's eyes widened in realization. "You're my teacher then?"

"That's right," the kunoichi nodded, extending her hand to Shiori. "I'm Rika. It's nice to meet you, my lady. I'll be working with you, along with Kanzo who you've already met."

"Please," Shiori smiled taking Rika's hand, "it's Shiori. And I'll warn you in advance; you have your work cut out for you."

"Yeah, I know. You're so scrawny. We need to build up your muscle mass before we can really do anything with you."

Bristling slightly at the mention of her physical weakness, Shiori lifted the hem of her kimono and flexed her calves to reveal their peak definition. "I'm not totally unskilled. You may have heard," Shiori purred, "I have some prior experience with running away."

"Oh, good! You've got some calf muscles already."

"Ahem," came a low voice from the corner of the room. Shiori froze in horror. Her head slowly pivoted to the door frame where two figures had silently entered. Her eyes first landed upon Kanzo. And then - of course - her husband.

 _I AM pretty good at running away_ , thought Shiori. _I wonder how far I'd get if I tried right now?_ Shiori dropped her skirts and bowed. "Good morning."

She had forgotten how imposing he was. Dressed fully in his uniform and respirator, he overpowered everyone and everything in the room. Although she should feel alarmed by his imposition, she instead felt acutely aware of his presence was in her bedroom. A thrilling shiver reverberated down her back.

"It's nice to see you making friends so quickly," said Hanzo as he folded his arms. Rika and Kanzo exchanged an amused glance. Shiori felt her face turn to fire as Hanzo's eyes traced where her skirt had just fallen. "What's your opinion, Rika?"

"We have a lot to do. I think first we'll work on stamina. I can handle the basics. Chakra control, ninjutsu 101. Kanzo, I'll leave the kekkei genkai to you."

Shiori's eyes widened in surprise. "My kekkei genkai? You think you can actually unseal it?" At that, Hanzo took several steps into the room and reached for one of Shiori's hands. For a brief moment, her chest felt tight and she forgot to breathe. Remembering suddenly, she exhaled shakily. _Why did this man have such an effect on her? Was it intimidation? Or could it be something else?_ She certainly welcomed his touch, the way his thumb brushed over the seal on her wrist. It was feather light but made her whole body tingle.

"This looks straightforward. Whoever did this to you didn't make it irreversible. If you're ready, I can lift this right now." He did not drop her hand.

Shiori's eyes rose from her wrist to Hanzo's gaze. "If you do this for me," she questioned, "what do you want in return?"

Hanzo rose to his full height and released her wrist. "I'll tell you when I decide." Hanzo turned his back and began to walk. "Follow me.

* * *

Hanzo led the small party outside to the training stadium. As Hanzo and Kanzo traveled several feet ahead of the girls, they were joined by a host of Rain shinobi reporting for orders or dropping off reports. With some annoyance, he began to suspect that many approached under the pretense of asking questions did so only to catch a glimpse of Shiori. Hanzo turned his head slightly to do the same. Shiori was too busy taking in her surroundings to notice. Doubtless she'd never seen a city like Amegakure in her life. They walked along the ground level of the city, some fifty floors below the tallest towers. As Shiori raised her head to trace the skyline with her eyes, Hanzo studied her swanlike neck. Fixated, he forgot to turn his head when she returned her gaze to the path ahead of them. Their eyes locked briefly before Hanzo regretfully returned his attention to the road.

Although she'd entered his life over two weeks ago now, he hadn't had time to properly study her to his satisfaction. Last night, instead of sleeping, he'd tried to mentally compose an image of her, but couldn't perfect the hue of her eyes or her natural expression. He simply hadn't spent enough time with her to have memorized those things, and it wasn't an exercise he performed regularly. The truth was, she was quickly sinking under his skin. And as much as his body protested, he didn't want to further their relationship physically without a better idea of who he'd married. She deserved the same courtesy, and would probably need time to accept what he was. For now he resolved to keep his desires in check and work towards building trust between them.

As they reached the end of town near the water's edge, Hanzo led the party into the remains of an old training facility. While the four walls were intact, the ceiling was partially dilapidated. Still, it would provide them as much privacy as they needed. Hanzo dismissed all but Kanzo and Rika to guard the perimeter. If the unsealing was successful, he wanted only a select few to know about it. Shiori's powers could be nothing, but on the other hand those seals may be concealing something very useful to him. Once the four were alone, Hanzo approached Shiori.

"Show me your wrists again," Hanzo directed. With a slight nod, Shiori rolled the grey sleeves of her gown to her elbows and rolled her arms to expose the underside of her wrists. On both were matching, sage colored seals. Hanzo took one hand in his own and lifted it to examine her child-like wrist. Satisfied, Hanzo nodded and released her hand. Walking to the center of the room, he withdrew a stick of charcoal from his satchel and kneeled to the ground to draw the characters necessary to release the seal. It would not be hard to break. Whoever had sealed her did not expect anyone to attempt to remove them. The seal necessary for removal was not rare or even difficult to learn. Whoever had done this simply wanted to keep Shiori out of trouble. Alternatively, they'd wanted to ensure that they could easily remove the seal later. Whatever the reason, Hanzo was grateful this wouldn't drain much of Shiori's chakra. Once through, he'd like to see her abilities in action.

"Shiori, how much control do you have over your kekkei genkai?"

"I never learned to manipulate it with hand signs, but I've never had any incidents. It takes some willpower to be able to use it." Hanzo nodded.

"This procedure shouldn't drain much chakra. After the seals are removed, I need to see what exactly you can do. From there, Rika and Kanzo will teach you how to control your kekkei genkai and use it more efficiently. Without precision, you're just wasting energy." At length, Hanzo finished the elaborate scrawled circle of seals. Hanzo instructed Shiori to kneel in the center the palms of her hand outreached, facing up. Hanzo stood behind her and began to chant. "Ushi-tora-saru-i-tori-mi-uma-tatsu . . ." With each incantation, the seals began to glow brighter. A visible energy shot from the center of the ring to Shiori's outstretched hands, encircling her wrists like cuffs. The only reaction from Shiori was a quick gasp and clenched teeth.

About twenty seconds passed. Gradually, the light dimmed and energy stream disappeared. A bead of sweat rolled down Shiori's face as she breathed heavily, but her attention was focused completely on her wrists where seals used to be. Hanzo offered her his hand and brought her to her feet. She raised her eyes to his.

"That's all?"

"See for yourself." Shiori nodded and began to distance herself from the party. With some surprise, Hanzo watched as Shiori began to disrobe to her white slip. Though not revealing, Hanzo's breath caught momentarily at the image of her undressing in front of him.

Shiori stepped away from the pile. Forming her hands into the hitsuji symbol, she closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. Hanzo, Kanzo, and Rika looked on expectantly as Shiori's skin began to emit a small glow. Though about ten feet away from her, Hanzo could feel a heat begin to emit from her body. Then, she opened her eyes.

Fire erupted. Hanzo's eyes widened in amazement as flame not only erupted from Shiori's hand, but from every part of her body. Her braid was undone has her hair itself transformed into cascades of golden flame, singeing the ties which restrained it. Within moments she was completely aflame.

 _And completely naked._


	8. Chapter 8

Shiori outstretched her arms to inspect the fire that covered her entire body. All that remained visible of her humanity were her purple eyes. Warmth she'd long forgotten flooded her veins, filling her with inexpressible joy. Lifting her attention from her hands, Shiori locked eyes with Hanzo. Whatever fears or misgivings she's ever felt towards him before melted with the heat of heat flowing through her. Never had she felt such gratitude towards another person. Lifting her gown from the ground, Shiori willed the flames to cease and dressed herself. Though the fire receded, her face was still lit with a triumphant smile.

Kanzo and Rika approached Hanzo's side. "Shiori," laughed Kanzo softly to dispel the silence that had fallen over the room, "this isn't what I was expecting. It's unbelievable the Leaf would seal away something so useful." Hanzo remained silent, momentarily shocked by Shiori's daring reveal of her kekkei genkai.

Approaching Hanzo, Shiori gently reached for his hand and held it tightly in both of her own. Unsure how to convey such profound gratitude, she resorted to the truth. "I don't know how I can ever thank you for this," Shiori stated simply. "I am at your service and forever in your debt." Shiori release his hand and bowed slightly.

Hanzo looked upon her with his usual, intense unreadable expression. "There is no need. In the end, you'll need all your power to realize your ideals. When the time comes, I will expect you to help realize mine." Hanzo motioned to Kanzo. "Kanzo, let's go. Rika, I leave Shiori to you. Escort her through the city and begin instruction immediately. The Leaf has wasted too much time already with those ridiculous seals."

"Sir," Rika bowed. Hanzo returned his attention to Shiori.

"I will return this evening," Hanzo said as he gave a short nod and turned to leave. Hanzo barked instructions and vanished so suddenly, Shiori didn't have time to reply. Not that she could have, anyway. Never in her life had Shiori felt so breathless and tongue-tied. Rika laughed softly at Shiori's gaping mouth.

"Hanzo isn't the best at accepting gratitude, is he? Come on, I'll show you around. Maybe we should start by finding you something to wear for training. Something fireproof."

* * *

Shiori paid rapturous attention to Rika as she guided them through the endless maze of corridors leading from one skyscraper to another, and then gradually descending to the ground level before taking an elevator to the top of another building across the street. "You'll notice the higher the residence here, Shiori, the higher the occupant's social status. It's mainly peasants and genin that travel the ground level. I doubt you'll need to take it often, but I'll show it to you anyway. Most everywhere you need to go is connected by sky tunnel."

"Actually," replied Shiori nervously as she looked at the ground some twenty stories below, "I should think I'd feel better with the proletariat on the ground."

Rika laughed. "Afraid of heights, are we?"

"I've never had the opportunity to find out. If this is any indication though, I must be."

"Just don't look down, then. We're almost there." Rika led Shiori to the top of a modest, ten-story building ornamented with a traditional sloped roof and hanging lanterns. The penthouse of the building was walled in glass, allowing customers to observe the city from every angle. Inside was packed with bolts of cloth, netting, bandages, gloves, and shoes. Rika spread her arms, as if welcoming Shiori into her palace. "We call this the tack room. The top floor is devoted to uniform materials. Below us is floor after floor of artillery and equipment."

As Rika left to fetch the shopkeeper, Shiori let her fingers drift over the varied textures of cloth used for shinobi uniforms. The thought of owning one herself caused her to break out in an enormous grin. Rika soon returned with a shopkeeper who bowed so often and so swiftly that it was some time before Shiori caught sight of her face. "M-my lady! You honor us with your presence! It would be my privilege to assist you!"

Touched, Shiori gave the shopkeeper a warm smile. The people of Amegakure did not have to treat her with hospitality. They had every reason to be weary of a foreigner from the Leaf. Perhaps this woman's kindness was motivated by nothing more than righteous fear of Hanzo, but Shiori somehow doubted it.

"No, it is my honor to be your guest here. And I am in great need of your and Rika's assistance. I have no idea what I need."

"For starters," interrupted Rika, "we'll need fireproof cloth. Whatever top, bottom, and shoes we select need to be flame retardant. There's no point in affixing anything that's flammable either." If the shopkeeper was surprised, she didn't show it.

"Not a problem, not a problem! What about color?" Rika and the shopkeeper looked at Shiori.

"Hm, well, black seems to be a staple in this line of work . . . and perhaps something purple for flair," Shiori added as Hanzo's uniform flashed in her mind.

"Consider it done! Now, here is a catalog of our offered styles," said the shopkeeper as she handed Shiori a sketchbook, "but for you, I can make anything you wish. Here's a pencil if you'd like to make any adjustments." Shiori's eyes landed on a plain, wrapped dress with an attached skort. Taking the pencil from the shopkeeper, Shiori edited the drawing, added notes, and handed the book back to the shopkeeper. The shop keeper's eyes widened as she studied the design.

"A-as you wish, my lady," the shopkeeper at last acquiesced, bowing.

"Great," piped in Rika, slapping Shiori lightly on the back. "Now that that's settled, onwards to weapons."

Shiori and Rika ventured downstairs to a room filled with various sharp and jagged instruments. As Rika began choosing from a selection of kunai and shuriken, Shiori was drawn to a display of bows. _At last_ , she thought, _something familiar in this alien place_. Shiori dislodged one from its mount, held it firm in her left hand, and positioned her body perpendicular to her imaginary target - Ayame's smug face. Smirking with relish, she pulled the bow tight with her right hand and released.

"Hey, bravo," clapped Rika behind her. "It looks like you already know how to use that thing."

"A friend taught me back in Konohagakure." A shadow crossed Shiori's face as she remembered Danzo and his proposal during their last archery lesson.

Rika drew an arrow from a pile and rolled it between her fingers. "This gives me an idea. We're taking the bow."

* * *

As the afternoon wore on, Rika continued to show Shiori the city and begin to explain the basics of ninjutsu. By evening, Rika returned Shiori to her home and departed. After inquiring whether Hanzo had return and finding him still absent, Shiori took dinner alone in the vast dining room. Afterwards, she attempted to distract herself by reading the Amegakure news. Finding it strangely reticent for a news periodical, Shiori read it three times over by the time she at last heard a commotion from the floor below. Soon she was able to make out Hanzo's commanding voice baling out instructions. Discarding the paper, Shiori ventured downstairs to greet him.

Following the trail of voices, she traveled downstairs to what she recognized as the smaller dining room from the night before, closed off and guarded by two masked shinobi. They stood taller and stiffened as she approached. One saluted her awkwardly.

"Excuse me, is Lord Hanzo inside?"

The two guards exchanged looks. The one on the right, arm still raised in salute, spoke first. "Yes, my lady, but usually Hanzo doesn't allow anyone in unless the matter is very important."

Behind her, Shiori noticed a waiter carrying a tray of sake bottles. With one graceful sweep, she lifted the tray from the hands of the dumbfounded waiter and returned to face the guards. "Now this," she said thrusting the tray forward, "looks critical to me. If Lord Hanzo says otherwise, I'll suffer his wrath for it."

The guards exchanged glances again, this time shrugging. "Okay, m'am. But first, put this on," he said removing his respirator. No one is allowed inside without one." Thanking the guards Shiori put on the respirator and entered the dining room. Once inside she realized the respirator would be quite useless because what she saw took her breath away. Hanzo was unmasked.

* * *

Over dinner, Hanzo had planned to sift through his men's reports and work on a response to the growing threat of a Suna invasion from the south. His plans, however, were cut not unwelcomely short by the entrance of his wife. Shiori hadn't been far from his thoughts all day. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that her kekkei genkai possessed more potential than he'd initially expected. What had really occupied him, however, was her brazen demonstration. Stripping naked was just the latest in Shiori's string of surprising behavior. _What kind of wild animal had he brought into his home?_ Of course, so far she'd given him no reason to complain. And if she wanted to be an exhibitionist, that was fine by him. _As long as it was for him alone_.

Unfortunately, Shiori was now dressed in a demure, grey robe and carried the sake tray he'd ordered. The lower half of her face was obscured by the respirator. Though at first she didn't speak, she quickly shook whatever was holding her tongue and placed the tray on the table in front of him.

"I'm sorry to intrude, and I'll leave if you'd like, but I wanted to welcome you home." As she spoke, she lifted a small mallet from the tray and, with some flourish, broke open the sealed bottle and began to pour sake into his cup.

"Stay. And don't act like a servant in your own home," he commanded while taking the sake from her.

"This is the least I can do after what you did for me this morning," she said absently as she picked up the sake bottle for inspection. "Biwa No Choju. I've never tried this before. How is it?"

"You drink?" Hanzo asked with some surprise. Though most women he knew did, he hadn't expected it of her. Although the respirator concealed her mouth, Hanzo could tell Shiori grimaced by the way her nose wrinkled.

"Rotten rice water? No thank you," Shiori scoffed. "Actually, I don't usually resort to it unless I'm out of wine and desperate. How is it?" she asked, turning the bottle over in her hands.

"Terrible. It's more like poison than sake."

"That must be why you like it," Shiori jabbed, the tops of her cheeks rounding above her mask, exposing her flirtatious smile.

Hanzo nearly choked. No one had ever joked about his poison before. "That's pretty bold joke. If memory serves correctly, you nearly died from poison just a few days ago. Hardly a laughing matter."

"Oh, I remember quite well. Would you like me to bring you something else instead? I'd hate for you to suffer the same fate."

Hanzo shook his head. "No. I prefer this for sentimental reasons." Hanzo took the bottle from Shiori and turned it over in his hands. "This is the sake made by my home village. My family grew the rice used to make it." Hanzo turned his attention from the sake to his new wife. "How was your first day?"

Shiori reclined against the table, stretching her legs. "I'm not sure I have words to describe it. Amegakure is so foreign."

"It will take getting used to for you. Amegakure is a hotbed of conflict, but I think you'll learn to be comfortable here. Our technology is further advanced than any other village, so, for the rich at least, quality of life is higher."

Shiori nodded. "True, but, the largest adjustment, however, his here," Shiori pointed to her heart. "Until last week, I considered Amegakure my enemy. Now I'm its queen. I'm unsure how to reconcile my feelings for the Leaf with my duties to the Rain."

Hanzo softened, appreciating her honesty. "Shiori. I won't ask you to swear your allegiance to the Rain because I don't want to hear empty words. However, know that because of your conflict of interest, I must keep you in the dark about my affairs."

"Of course," Shiori agreed. "All I ask is that you continue to be as honest with me as you have been."

"I can agree to that if you do the same," Hanzo promised, pleased. Hanzo appreciated Shiori's frankness. "What a strange woman you are," Hanzo smirked. "I thought most women asked their husbands for jewelry, not chores."

"I can ask for jewelry?" Shiori returned playfully.

"No."

"I guess generosity isn't your strong suit then," Shiori huffed.

"I thought sparing your life was pretty generous," Hanzo shrugged in between sips.

"How strange. When people tell stories about you, they always forget to mention how charming you are, Hanzo. Brutal honesty must be your greatest virtue."

"You should be grateful for that. If we want this marriage arrangement to work, you'll have to be upfront and clear with me. In return, I'll be equally upfront and honest."

Shiori smiled, rising to her feet. "It's a deal," she agreed touching Hanzo's free hand in agreement. Moments later, Kanzo arrived with the evening report, and Shiori took her leave. Even after she'd gone Hanzo's retained the residual warmth, and he knew it had nothing to do with sake.


	9. Chapter 9

When Shiori opened her eyes the next morning, it was still dark, save for two turquoise beams shining down on her. Startled, she sat up suddenly, shielding herself with her blanket.

"Haha, sorry to alarm you, Shiori," the owner of the eyes, laughed. Gradually, the profile of Rika's face came into focus. "It's time to for you to get ready."

 _That's right._ Training officially started today. Or was it still tonight? Hadn't it only been moments ago when she closed her eyes? Outside was pitch black, save for the glowing red lights from the skyscrapers and streets outside the window. Yawning and with some reluctance, Shiori rose and took the bundle of clothes Rika handed her.

"After you change, meet me downstairs and we'll start stretches," Rika waived, heading out the door. Shiori dressed wearily, wondering if Rika's intrusion would become a daily occurrence. And if it did, why did that bother her? She'd always grown up with servants waking her. Rika, however, was no servant. Hanzo's wife or not, Shiori doubted Rika would ever obey an order from her. There was also something simply . . . off about Rika. Something about her perpetual smile and automatic laugh seemed practiced. A trained actress herself, Shiori could tell when others were genuine with her. It saddened Shiori to think that the one person she would be spending most of her time with was so incomprehensible to her. Shaking the lonely thought from her mind, Shiori resolved to if not befriend Rika, to at least earn her respect. But if that was going to happen, she first needed caffeine.

* * *

After a quick cup of tea, Shiori joined Rika downstairs in a large room emptied for their use. Stretching, the weeks of pent up tension began to loosen from Shiori's body. _It was strange_ , she thought to herself, _that the most comfortable she'd been in weeks was standing next to this odd girl, legs spread wide and rears in the air_. For about an hour, the two stretched next to one another in companionable silence, save for Rika's occasional instructions. And Shiori's sudden, mortifying stomach growl.

As if waiting for the cue, Rika slowly stood up. "It sounds like you've had enough of this," Rika exhaled. "Must be breakfast time."

Returning to the dining room, Shiori was surprised to find Kanzo waiting for them. "Good morning ladies," Kanzo rose to his feet and bowed, smiling politely.

"I'm a lady now, am I?" Rika asked rhetorically, taking her seat at the table.

"Good morning, Kanzo," Shiori returned, also taking her seat. "I didn't realize we'd have the pleasure of your company this morning." _If she had_ , she thought, _she would have bathed before. Maybe if she excused herself now, she could run to her room, re-braid her hair, and change into something presentable before breakfast was served_. Just then, the doors parted as two servants entered bearing trays. _Well, damn_. Between hot breakfast after an hour of stretching and looking presentable for Kanzo, Kanzo lost. _Sorry Kanzo_.

"I won't join you usually. Most mornings I'm on patrol, so I'm leaving you to Rika. I'm here this morning to discuss your kekkei genkai. Has it ever been fully explained to you?"

"Fully explained?" Shiori raised an eyebrow. "Aren't they just abilities passed genetically? Of course, no one in my family that we are aware of shares mine. What more is there to know?"

Kanzo nodded. "Kekkei genkai, as you've gathered are typically passed though clans. However, sometimes they can be unique to one person alone. Take for instance, your first Hokage, Hashirama's wood release."

"I'd never made that connection before!" Shiori brightened. Not realizing that kekkei genkai could suddenly appear, she'd thought of herself a mutant at best, or questioned her legitimacy at worst. "An original kekkei genkai user like Hashirama . . . Kanzo, _darling_ , you've made my day."

"And I hope I can only make it better, my lady. Are you familiar with chakra natures?"

"A little. I know certain ninja are predisposed to use techniques of one element more than another."

"That's it, in essence. Nature Transformation is an advanced form of chakra control. It entails molding and defining your chakra into an innate kind of chakra nature, altering its properties and characteristics. There are five elemental natures of chakra which can be transformed, namely fire, wind, lightening, earth, and water. Generally, every person has chakra that has an affinity towards one of these nature transformations."

"I've always assumed my own is fire."

"Not just fire. Besides the five elemental nature transformations, there are several more combined nature transformations. By initiating more than one elemental chakra nature transformation simultaneously, one can create a completely new nature of chakra with unique properties. To do this requires a kekkei genkai. This means that in addition to fire, you also possess another chakra nature affinity. Because your skin appears to be impervious to the fire release, I'd venture the guess that your second chakra nature affinity is earth."

"Two chakra nature affinities? Do slow down Kanzo, dear. You're giving me too much and we've only just met."

"What can I say," Kanzo blushed slightly, unaccustomed to flirtation, "I'm the last of the true gentlemen."

"And _I'm_ a feudal lord," Rika muttered, taking a bite of her steamed bun.

"But I wanted to tell you both not to get carried away, using your kekkei genkai. You need a greater foundation to be able to use it efficiently. First, Rika, focus on taijutsu and self-defense. Afterwards you can teach her basic jutsu. Using something like fire release is an enormous drain on chakra. I suspect that once you can better isolate and focus the release, you will increase its strength. Time will tell. I'll be off now. Rika, don't do anything rash."

Rika watched Kanzo leave, tilting her head curiously. "How did he know?"

"Know what?"

"It's nothing. Just a theory I have. No matter," Rika stood, "we'll try it once or twice just to see if I'm on to something, and then get started with some taijutsu. Deal?"

Common sense objected to agreeing to something without knowing what it fully entailed, but she had a feeling that even if Rika explained the plan to her, she'd still be lost. "Deal."

"Okay. Grab your bow and let's head out!"

* * *

Rika led Shiori back to the ruined training facility from the day before. There, Shiori watched as Rika dragged mounted targets from the side of the wall to the far end of the room. Shiori estimated it was about thirty yards. _Child's play for her bow and arrow_.

"All set over here!" Rika shouted from the far end of the room. "Wanna give her a go?"

Shiori readied her stance, spreading her feet shoulder width apart. Taking a deep breath, Shiori fired. The shot forced her to use back-tension to get the release to fire, ensuring a surprise release and greater accuracy. Sure enough, the arrow flew straight, landing comfortably within the bull's eye.

"Impressive," clapped Rika. "Who taught you to shoot like that? That kind of shot is a little maverick for someone like you. And I'm glad you're a long range fighter. That makes my job of teaching you a lot easier since long range is my specialty."

"Are you an archer as well?"

"Not exactly," Rika rummaged around her waist and pulled out a thin, elongated tube. "But I do recognize a good release when I see one. This blowgun, however, is my preferred weapon of choice." Withdrawing a slip of paper from her satchel, Rika nimbly wrapped the paper around a dart while walking back to the entrance of the facility, about eighty yards from the target.

 _Could she possibly hit the target from so far away, with breath alone?_

Taking her stance, Rika fired a dart. Moving almost faster than Shiori's eyes could detect, Rika propped the blow gun under her arm and waved a hand sign. Just as the dart began to descend in the middle of the room, it changed its course. Ascending into the air, the dart twirled several times, rising and falling, before hitting the target in its heart.

"My chakra nature is wind." Rika pulled another tag from her satchel. "I attach these chakra tags to my darts, allowing me to control their path and extend their distance. This is the sort of thing you'll be able to do once you can better control your chakra."

Ignoring Shiori's shocked expression, Rika changed the subject. "What do you think of the bow?"

Shaking her amazement, Shiori turned the now-underwhelming bow over in her hands. "It's not bad. Judging from the feel and the rough, edgy sound it makes when fired, it may be a little stiff, but overall well-constructed enough."

"'Enough' isn't good enough. Let's trash it. Before you fire, try setting the arrow on fire with you kekkei genkai this time."

"I'm not so sure I should. I'd hate to get on Kanzo's bad side so quickly."

"You've seen his face. The man has no good sides. Just try it."

"Why _Rika_ ," Shiori smiled devilishly, "you have a wicked sense of humor. I like it." _Maybe we'll get along after all_. Concentrating energy in her palms, Shiori performed the requisite hand signs until a flame began to grow in the palm of her hands. Taking an arrow from Rika, she exposed it to the flame until it caught fire. Shiori then pulled it against the string, and let loose. The flaming arrow landed close to the first arrow. Not long after, flames engulfed the target.

"Just as I thought," Rika crossed her arms in satisfaction, "I think that eventually, if we can focus your flame release, you might be able to create tangible objects, like a bow and arrow, without needing a base."

" _Now_ ," Shiori leaned in conspiratorially, "how to destroy the evidence?"

"We'll just kick it outside. Once the afternoon rain swings by, Kanzo will never know."

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly in comparison to Shiori's exciting morning of archery. For hours, Rika critiqued her form, standing posture, and running stance. Although she hadn't budged an inch from the 1-by-1 foot square tile she occupied, her blouse was moist from perspiration and her knees felt like giving way any minute. She'd fallen far from the triumph this morning, now realizing just how little she knew about ninjutsu or fighting. It was all more than she could learn in her remaining lifetime.

However, giving up was not an option. Training had been part of her deal with Hanzo. And she did want to learn. Her brush with death impressed upon her the urgent need for some knowledge of self-defense.

 _And also_ , she realized, _she wanted to impress him_. Not that even reaching her full potential as kunoichi would ever impress a shinobi legend like Hanzo, but she at least wanted to surpass his expectations. And to prove to him that she could work hard. Catching her second wind, Shiori gripped her kunai as Rika had shown her, distributed her weight evenly on both feet, and bent her knees as if preparing to attack.

"That's close, but you're holding the kunai wrong."

Horrified, Shiori turned in the direction of the speaker at the open door. Sure enough, because fate had evidently decreed that this man would always see her at her worst and least dignified, Hanzo's massive figure engulfed the entryway.

And he was topless.

If here clothes weren't drenched in sweat before, they were now.

Curious, Hanzo had ended training early to check on Shiori's progress. Whatever Rika had had her doing, they'd been at it for a while. Shiori's face was flushed with exertion, and her legs were trembling slightly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. For a moment, Hanzo was captivated. Her black outfit, like everything else she wore, was _daringly_ low cut, dipping far below her bust and disappearing into the cloth of her cummerbund. Each inhale strained the fabric around her chest. _She really ought to breathe from her diaphragm_ , but enjoying the view, he decided to remind her later. Realizing he'd stared too long, Hanzo shook his head. "Let me show you." Approaching Shiori, Hanzo stopped behind her, wrapping his hands around her arms in demonstration.

Shiori, still speechless, moved submissively. Though no longer in her direct line of sight, she was very aware of the massive pair of biceps and muscled chest behind her. She'd never been this close to a half-naked man before, and certainly never seen one as built as this one. As she studied him, she noticed for the first time a large, angry scar that tore across his waist. It evidently had never healed properly. Shiori wondered what kind of injury had caused it, and why it hadn't been treated. For a moment, her attraction was overcome by curiosity and concern.

"Better. That's enough for today. Rika, are you finished here?"

"If you say so," Rika nodded. "We've worked predominately on forms and stances today. Tomorrow, we'll focus on strength training."

Hanzo nodded. Hanzo looked down at Shiori, still frozen. "Come, Shiori."


	10. Chapter 10

Before heading out, Hanzō donned his undershirt and flak jacket. Shiori's eyes, overcome by his raw masculinity, retreated to her feet in a vain attempt to conceal her fierce blush. Hanzō, having finished long before she dared look up, took the opportunity to study her. _What was this sudden modesty?_ She certainly didn't seem to mind others watching _her_ naked. _Could it be his scar?_ Hanzō had lived with it so long, he hardly considered it a cause for aversion. "Come, Shiori," Hanzō commanded softly, extending his arm towards her. Shiori looked up, and taking his motion as an invitation, took his arm in hers, placing her hands lightly on his forearm. _It must not be aversion then_ , thought Hanzō pleased.

"Shiori, what did you learn today?"

Shiori's lips tilted upward in a sideways smile. "That I have two chakra natures, fire and earth, but apparently I don't know how to stand properly. That I can hit a bulls eye from 30 yards with no trouble, but can't hold a kunai to literally save my life. I knew this wouldn't be easy or an overnight transformation, but I'm worried that by missing out on a childhood of training, I've lost my chance of becoming a kunoichi entirely."

"It's true. You won't ever reach your full potential because you've started so late. The Leaf wasted a valuable opportunity."

"Hanzō, you're supposed to comfort me and tell me I'm wrong."

"I promised you honesty."

"I will allow you to take it back."

"However," Hanzō continued, ignoring the offer, "you'll be able to grasp enough for your own protection should you ever need it."

Shiori squeezed his arm in mock annoyance. "Protection? That's what I married _you_ for."

"I don't have time to play bodyguard."

"I'd make it worth your while. I live a very exciting life."

"I know that all too well," recalling the series of "exciting" events that had led her to his doorstep. There truly never was a dull moment with her. She transformed even this mundane walk home into the most fun he'd had since . . . well, since he'd dined with her last evening.

"I digress," she sighed, changing the subject, "it's just . . . the more I learn, the less I realize I actually know. I have questions so fundamental, I'm embarrassed to ask them."

"Ask me," Hanzō suggested.

"Well . . . this isn't one exactly, but now I'm curious. Hanzō, what is your chakra nature?"

"I have two. Fire, like yours, and water."

"Does that mean you have a kekkei genkai as well?"

"No. I am not able to combine the two elements to create any special abilities. However," he said, motioning toward his waist, "some consider my poison abilities a kekkei genkai of sorts."

An image of Hanzō's scar resurrected itself in Shiori's mind. Before she could decide whether or not to push the line of inquiry, they were approached by a small crowd. Two men, and what appeared to be their mother stopped before Hanzō and Shiori, blocking their path.

Hanzō's brows raised in interest and caution. It wasn't every day commoners would address him on the street. Usually, they bowed and parted ways.

"Good evening Lord Hanzō and my lady," the woman spoke as she and her sons bowed in unison. "We would like to welcome you, Lady Shiori, to Amegakure. Please accept these," she said, extending a bag of nikuman, "as a welcome gift."

"Thank you," she bowed with perfect ease, accustomed to receiving similar gifts. "I'm enchanted already with Amegakure's hospitality. Are you chefs?"

"Yes, my sons and I recently opened the restaurant you see here, after moving from the countryside."

"Our village was destroyed," one of the men silent until now piped up, "but I believe you captured and dealt this those responsible, Lord Hanzō. Thank you," he bowed.

Hanzō didn't say a word, but nodded slightly in acknowledgement. Shiori noticed that not one of the three had yet looked Hanzō in the eyes. _Were his subjects afraid of him?_ Even so, they also appeared deeply grateful. Hanzō may be vilified everywhere else in the world, Shiori reminded herself, but here, he is their hero. And she couldn't help but feel a little proud associating with him. As the son spoke, Shiori lifted a bun from the bag and sampled daintily.

"These," she gasped, a bright smile spreading across her face, "are the best I've ever tasted!"

The group of chefs looked at her with pleasure and excitement. "Really?! Did you hear that, mother? We'll have to tell everyone!"

"Thank you, my lady!" Bowing profusely, the group took off to spread the word of Shiori's endorsement. Long after they'd passed out of sight, Hanzō and Shiori could hear their excited voices bragging to all that would listen.

"I hope you weren't lying back there, Shiori."

"They all taste the same to me," she sang, finishing the last bite of her first bun. "These might as well be the best. Would you like some? We can save them for later."

Hanzō simply shook his head. "No."

Shiori walked beside him quietly for a time, debating how to proceed. On one hand, she would like to learn more about his scar. At the same time, she didn't want to badger him with questions before he trusted her. And she also didn't want to reawaken what must be painful memories, judging from the deep scar blazoned across his abdomen.

"I don't expect you to confide in me now, but one day I hope you'll consider telling me the story of how this," she motioned to his waist, "came to be."

Hanzō glanced down at her. Honestly, he was surprised she'd waited so long to ask. "How 'this' came to be is something that concerns only me, my family, and select associates. However, since you meet those criteria now, I will tell you all you need to know. My family's farm was destroyed in the civil war, leaving us destitute. Fortunately, at the same time there was a single black salamander in my village that produced this deadly toxin. I was a kid when it died. The village wanted to use its venom sac as a weapon for protection. Needing a child to experiment on, they approached my parents promising to forgive our debts in exchange for my body." Shiori looked at him in alarm.

"What choice did we have?" Hanzo continued. "I took the salamander's venom sac and implanted it in my body, right here," Hanzō pointed to his waist. "All to give myself resistance to poison and make my body itself toxic. I can envenomate nearby people just by breathing on them." For a moment, Hanzō was transported to his childhood. The villager's horrified faces became as visible to him as if they were standing before him now. "They were terrified of me . . . a kid. To keep people around me safe, I had to start breathing through this mask." Hanzō shook his head to shake the phantoms away. "That is all you need to know for now."

Shiori walked along in silent shock. The story she'd just heard was far worse than any grim fairy tale her nursemaids had recited to keep her in line. She couldn't fathom the degree of hardship necessary to drive a parent to consent to such unnatural, life-threatening experimentation on their child. "Your parents . . . I can't imagine how desperate they must have felt . . . and how guilty they feel now."

Hanzō tensed. "They are not your concern," he snapped.

Sensing she'd struck a nerve, Shiori didn't inquire further. Hanzō's past explained the chilly greeting he'd given his parents when he introduced her to them. His relationship with them had to be strained, at the very least. Still, he must have some regard for them to support them as he did. Or perhaps it was all for appearance's sake. Shiori filed the information away in her mind, a puzzle to solve for another day.

The two walked in silence as Hanzō's latent anger began to stir. The problem of Hanzō's parents was one he hoped if he ignored would go away. He supported them but saw them rarely. He supposed he should thank them though; after all, their choice to sacrifice him had become the cornerstone in his budding empire. Still, their betrayal had cut deep, as his scar reminded him daily, and some wounds never healed. _Especially ones he didn't want to be healed_. Hanzō pushed them from his mind by changing the subject.

"Rika. What do you think of her?"

"She's . . . friendly and patient. Thank you for asking her to train me."

"I didn't. Kanzo selected her. She was not my first choice, but you will learn more than you ever wanted to know about Amegakure from her."

"What do you mean?" Shiori's brows furrowed in curiosity.

"Rika was orphaned at a young age and forced into becoming a child solider until Kanzo intervened. When he found her, she had no sense of morality and would kill on command without hesitation. What they did to her and forced her to do, I don't want to know. But what I will tell you is that the person you see today is only a performance. Rika lost her humanity long ago. Trust her only to the extent she's under the direct orders of Kanzo. Ignore everything else. Rika has no ability to assess risks. I doubt she would even realize if she was putting your life or hers in danger. Or if she'd even care."

Shiori's eyes widened in horror. This portrait of Rika seemed irreconcilable with the cheerful girl she'd stretched with this morning. "The rebel groups used Rika as a child solider? Is such a thing . . . common?"

"Look around you."

As Shiori turned her head to capture the panoramic of the streets, small shadows shifted under the lights, along the buildings. "Children? Are they-"

"Orphans as well. After water and iron, they're Amegakure's third largest resource. Thousands flee to the city as refugees. Those that aren't as lucky are recruited to fight in the countryside."

"What's being done to prevent this? Surely there is some haven, some system in place for their protection?"

"There is nothing besides the kindness of a few strangers."

For a second time, the two lapsed into silence, this time, with Shiori in deep concentration. Her concern for Rika was overshadowed by the realization of an even larger problem. "Hanzō, as long as there are this many orphans in Amegakure, there will always be civil war. With so many in the city, I can't fathom how many there must be in the countryside. And if they're all recruited by rebel forces . . . you face generations of warfare."

"And _that_ , Shiori, is the history of Amegakure. All that can be done is to eliminate them along with the rebels that recruit them. Not everyone can be salvaged like Rika."

"And so the history of Amegakure repeats itself again."

"If you have a better suggestion, I'm all ears," Hanzō's eyes narrowed dangerously. The plight of Amegakure's people, he realized, was his most pressing problem. In the end, if he didn't have civilian backing, winning on the battlefront would be meaningless. If he couldn't support his people, he didn't deserve to call them his own. Not knowing what to do, he had delegated the problem to others and poured his effort into ending the civil warfare. That at least was something he knew he could handle.

Shiori again lost herself as an idea took root in her mind. Perhaps this was the opportunity she'd been looking for to help Hanzō and the Leaf. _And herself_. Hanzō was a dangerous man. If he became stronger, he'd pose a greater threat to the Leaf. On the other hand, a strong Amegakure would make it difficult for surrounding nations like Suna to invade Konoha. There was also the fact that Shiori's safety and power were now directly linked with Hanzō. By helping him rein in rebel resistance, she would ultimately boost herself as well. And if she held sway, perhaps she could use it to protect Konoha from abroad.

However, if she was going to rise with Hanzō, she needed to start somewhere. Other than a few servants in the main house, Shiori didn't have much commanding authority over anyone in Amegakure. Hanzō needed to delegate it to her. She would need to start small; to make him trust her in smaller things so that gradually she could win his faith completely. Taking on the project of Amegakure's orphans would be an excellent start. It would both appear harmless _and_ place the labor of countless laborers and villagers in her hands. Shiori knew nothing about children, but with assistance, she could learn anything. Finally, if she proved herself successful, perhaps Hanzō would entrust more to her. _Everyone wins_. "If I told you I did have a suggestion, would you let me try it?"

"If you'd like to take on this project, it's yours. Just don't get your hopes up too high." Hanzō didn't think she could make much difference, but was pleased to see Shiori begin to care for Amegakure. "You cannot save them all."

"No," Shiori smiled, satisfied by his easy acceptance, "but I have a feeling we can save more than one Rika." With that, Hanzō and Shiori reached home. Shiori was exhausted but energized by the prospect of having a project all to herself. "Would you like to discuss details now?" Shiori asked before a yawn escaped her mouth.

"Not tonight. I have matters to attend to, and you need rest after today."

"Then I'll bid you goodnight here," Shiori bowed, slightly disappointed that their time together had been so brief. "Thank you for entrusting me with this."

"Then I'll leave it in your hands." Reflexively, Hanzō placed his hand on her soft head. Already he regretted sending her away. The hours of planning and briefing that lay ahead of him that night weren't nearly as inviting as the prospect of another evening with Shiori. There had never been time for a woman in Hanzō's life, but now that he was stuck with this one, he needed to fit her in somewhere. _No_ , he admitted to himself, _he didn't need to_. He could easily block her out as he did his parents. _He wanted to fit her in his life_. "In the evenings when I'm dining, you can report your progress to me and let me know what you need."

"As you wish," Shiori grinned.

Parting ways, Hanzō balled his fists as if to carry the feel of her hair with him into the night.


	11. Chapter 11

On the third month anniversary of her arrival in Amegakure, Shiori rose at her usual hour, rang for tea, and styled her hair in a rebelliously messy braid (the only style she could seem to manage on her own) while she waited. Finishing her tea over a copy of the latest news, she delicately returned her cup to its saucer with sigh of nervous excitement. Then, she did something she'd never done before.

She joined Hanzō for breakfast.

Rather than meet Rika in the foyer as was now her daily routine, Shiori instead deviated to Hanzō's private dining room. Donning the respirator she wore each night, she threw the doors to the dining room open wide. Hanzō, having just finished his breakfast, raised his eyebrows in interest at the novel intrusion. Shiori stood dramatically at the entrance to the room, chin raised high in challenge.

Hanzō's lips curled almost imperceptibly into a smile recalling the challenge Shiori had issued some weeks ago. "Is it that time already? Don't get ahead of yourself. I've had 20 years of experience to your two months."

"Three months," Shiori corrected, not budging from the door frame. "And I'll be a widow before my skills to surpass yours, but I'm prepared to honor you with a viewing of my progress, Shiori motioned to herself dramatically. Per Shiori's request, Hanzō had not sat in on Shiori's training with Rika after her first day. In exchange for his noninterference, Shiori promised a challenge at the end of three months. On her first day of training, Shiori had been mortified when Hanzō caught her fumbling over a kunai. Shiori hoped the challenge would both provide her time to improve and motivate her to learn quickly.

Though three months was not near enough time to master chakra control or anything more than the most basic ninjutsu, Shiori learned quickly to use what abilities she already possessed strategically. Though she would not win the challenge today, she felt confident that with Rika's help, she could at least better Hanzō's opinion of her abilities. _It likely couldn't get any worse._

"Interesting, but hubris alone doesn't win battles, Shiori," Hanzō mused, rising formidably to his full height.

"Hubris doesn't, but bluffs have," Shiori countered.

Approaching Shiori, Hanzō tilted Shiori's head with his fingers, raising her eyes to his own. "Come to think of it, every move I've ever seen you make has been a bluff. Attacking me during our first meeting, defying your brother at our wedding . . . very clever. But I should warn you not to count on it every time. Now that I know your strategy, your secret's out."

"Then I should warn _you_ not to always assume I have nothing to back my hand," Shiori replied, eyelids lowering flirtatiously while simultaneously hoping her mask concealed the fierce blush erupting across her face.

Hanzō returned her gaze with a nearly imperceptible, but nevertheless heart-stopping smile. "I'll keep that in mind, Shiori. One can never be too cautious." As Hanzō withdrew his hand from Shiori's face, her breath caught as she thought he lowered his lips to her unkempt head. Rather than seal the distance between them with the kiss Shiori had now craved for weeks, Hanzō caught himself midair and simply patted her head. "I'll see you this evening, Shiori," he said softly as face disappeared behind the bulky respirator.

As Hanzō took his leave, Shiori's eyes raced frantically to catch one last glance at his chiseled midriff before it disappeared under his flak jacket. As Shiori spent more time with her husband, she found it more and more difficult to conceal her growing attraction to him. These days the slightest contact, serving him sake (their now established tradition) or touching his shoulder to grab his attention, left her unsatisfied.

Her attraction was not only physical. Very quickly she realized Hanzō possessed a powerful mind to equal his powerful body. For someone with no formal training, he was a brilliant political strategist and natural leader. Sometimes their nightly meetings devolved into a lecture on strategy or a debate on law and order. While initially Shiori had disagreed vehemently with Hanzō's iron-fisted approach to governance, Hanzō made a persuasive argument for Amegakure's current need for strong, central control. The conversation made Shiori realize that her entire world view had been shaped by her upbringing in Konoha, and that what systems worked well there may not be what Amegakure needed. Shiori found every conversation enlightening, and each day that passed she grew more convinced that she had allied herself with a man capable of changing the course of history. _But would that change be for the better or worse?_ And if that change ever threatened Konoha, she would have a weighty decision to make.

However, for the time-being Shiori determined supporting Hanzō her best move. The fact that Hanzō continued to expand her responsibilities indicated that perhaps he felt the same way about her. What surprised Shiori most about these past three months was the amount of freedom Hanzō provided her. Without protest, he gave her free reign over countless workers and a substantial budget for her orphanage. Perhaps it was just a ruse to keep her occupied and away from his affairs, but Shiori didn't think so. He needed a first lady to help run this country while he unified it. He needed _her_. And Shiori had never felt needed before. The strange sensation softened her heart towards him further, inspiring her allegiance and causing her to question the selfish pursuit of her own interests. Perhaps that was what made him such an effective leader; he placed faith in his people. And increasingly, _she desired to be worthy of that faith._

* * *

Shiori's buoyant spirits sunk slightly as she descended yet another flight of stairs to join Rika. Because of Hanzō's countless responsibilities, it was rare Shiori ever saw him outside their evening meetings. Consequently, she turned to Rika for companionship. However, while Shiori felt she and Hanzō grew closer each day, Rika remained more of an enigma to her than ever. Though during training Rika was always pleasant, Shiori found Rika's constant friendliness shallow and off-putting. Rika never asked Shiori questions or expressed any interest in getting to know her better. Their relationship was purely professional, and after training, the two would part ways until the next morning.

The time Shiori spent with Rika contrasted greatly with the lively, warm memories she shared with Meroko and Takuto. Thoughts of them made her long for friendship. But with Takuto and Meroko a world away and Hanzō absent 23 hours a day, for now Rika was the best she could do. Shiori would therefore just have to redouble her efforts breaking through Rika's shell. _Starting today_.

Sure enough, Rika's signature smile greeted Shiori in the foyer. If Rika was surprised to see Shiori dressed in her kimono rather than training attire, she didn't show it.

"Good morning Shiori. It's the big day! I hope you're ready. Though I think you'll have some trouble fighting if you plan to wear _that_."

"Actually, Rika, I thought we'd do something different this morning. I don't want to tire myself out before this afternoon, and there's something I'd like to show you. Would you mind if we changed the schedule today?"

"Fine with me. I'm glad you're feeling so confident. Where to?"

"I want to check on the children's home I've been working on, since I won't have the opportunity to see it later this afternoon. And I don't think you've had the chance to see it yet. I would love to hear what you think." Initially when Shiori brought up the orphanage project with Rika, she always expected Rika to follow up with questions. By now she'd come to realize that Rika wasn't one for questions or small talk. Any mention of the project had ended there or with Rika's hum and nod of acknowledgment. Shiori hoped that by showing the orphanage to Rika and explaining her plans, she could strike some chord in Rika that would lead to a genuine conversation.

"Then lead the way, Miss Shiori."

Every afternoon for the past two and a half months, Shiori consulted with builders, architects, and what few social workers she could find to carry out her experiment. Together, they'd decided to renovate a modest, abandoned, fifteen-story tower for their purpose. Per Shiori's request, contractors installed the latest technologies, some of which Shiori had never enjoyed herself. Still early on in the renovations, her first priority was to ensure the building's structural safety.

"What method of fire safety do you usually employ?" Growing up, Shiori's father impressed upon her the importance of fire safety, especially given her little-understood kekkei genkai. Fearful that she would mismanage it, her father insisted that some form of access to water was available in every room of their home.

The builders looked at each other before responding. "Well, it's not something we worry about too much because of the rain, you see? Whenever there's a fire, the weather pretty much takes care it for us."

Shiori shook her head disapprovingly. "Not good enough. Here," she grabbed a pencil and began defacing the builders' plans. "Unless you can think of something better, have a water tower on the roof here," she scribbled, "to collect the rain and run pipes connected to the water tower through every ceiling. Let's install emergency valves that when turned, open holes in the pipes that allow water to flow through into the room. Can you do this?"

"Y-yes m'am."

"Good. Rika," Shiori called, turning to look for her silent companion, "what do you think?"

"Think of what?" Rika called from above. She was currently tightrope walking a rafter beam with cat-like skill.

"Of this!" Shiori spun excitedly, motioning to the surrounding bones of her magnum opus.

"The orphanage?"

"Yes, the orphanage!" Shiori responded testily, questioning whether Rika had paid any attention at all to their surroundings this morning.

Rika gracefully leapt from the beam, landing silently before Shiori. "Why do you care what I think?"

"Because it's for people _like you_!" As soon as the words left her mouth, Shiori regretted them. Rika and Shiori never discussed Rika's past, and Shiori didn't want to reveal to Rika that Hanzō had given her a brief synopsis.

"People like me?" Rika smiled, head tilting slightly.

 _How could she salvage this situation?_ "That is, it's designed to shelter children from the countryside, so they're not taken in by . . . people that want to harm them."

"I see. Kanzo must have spilled my life's story to you."

"Lord Hanzō, actually. And I wouldn't say 'spilled.' Rather, he told me that your childhood had been . . . interrupted. I'm sorry I brought it up. We don't have to discuss it if you feel uncomfortable."

"I don't mind," Rika responded flippantly. "It's no big secret. When I was seven, a rebel group kidnapped me and several others on our way to school. The rebels killed our families and burned our village to the ground. They enlisted us as child soldiers. If someone refused, they ordered one of us to kill them. The first person I ever killed was my classmate, actually. She couldn't carry enough equipment, so they made me cut off her hands first. When I cried, they wiped my face in her blood."

Shiori listened in horrified, but concentrated silence. Though Rika seemed perfectly calm, Shiori felt that something was eerily wrong with Rika's detached interest while she narrated her story.

"After two years," Rika continued, "Kanzo's band found our rebel group and disbanded it. Most of us were killed in the fight, but I think Kanzo pitied me. He took me in, and I've followed him ever since. And that's all there is to it."

"But Rika, that isn't all," Shiori's voice trembled slightly in disbelief. "There are still other children living that same reality even now. Don't you think we should save them?"

Rika thought a while before responding. "No. I think it might be better not to save people _like me_."

"But why not? Why don't others deserve to be rescued like you were?" Shiori was starting to regret she'd ever desired to know Rika better. This wasn't a friendly girl she could share stories with over tea. This was a psycho with a past darker than any she'd ever heard. "Don't you care at all, Rika?"

Rika shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "I don't care. I am trained not to care. And so are they. Living life without a care isn't truly living, Shiori. So the biggest danger to people like me isn't _out there_ with other people. It's _in here_ ," Rika pointed to her head. "I think your walls here aren't saving anyone unless they're saving them from themselves," Rika explained, knocking on the wooden frame next to her. The sound echoed throughout the cavernous building as if to mock the hollowness of Shiori's idea.

Shiori felt as though she'd been slapped. _How could she have been so ignorant?_ She knew nothing about the horrors these children had faced or the care they needed to heal. Rika was right. This orphanage could provide temporary shelter, but without addressing these children's deeper needs, she wasn't helping anyone. _She had no clue what she was doing._ All of a sudden, the altruism Shiori prided herself on felt as phony as the smile Rika plastered on her face to trick the world into thinking she was fine. Suddenly, Shiori felt ashamed and naïve about her scheme. If she was going to make this work, _she needed to actually care about the people she was trying to help_.

"What's wrong Shiori? You look exhausted and the fight hasn't even started yet! Come on. It's time to get ready. You've got a match with Lord Hanzō in an hour, remember? Let's get you suited up!"

This time, Shiori trailed Rika in silence. "What's the matter back there?" Rika called from the front. "Scared Hanzō's gonna poison you again?"

"No," Shiori responded. "I'm not afraid of Hanzō's poison." _It's whatever is poisoning you that frightens me far more._


	12. Chapter 12

Hanzō frowned in anger, looking at the two men laying on the operating table before him. Their bodies and faces looked tranquil, as if the men were only sleeping. Unfortunately, they were not. "Have they determined the cause of death yet?"

"Yes," Kanzo confirmed. Kanzo parted the hair of one of the lifeless figures to reveal a single puncture wound above the ear. "Poison darts. The tests haven't returned, but we're guessing Suna's behind this."

"How far from the village were these found?"

"Several miles. They could be anywhere by now. We haven't seen traces of a large force, so this invasion could be as small as a single squad."

"It's either one of two things then," Hanzō's brows dipped further in anger, "a reconnaissance mission or another assassination attempt."

"Most likely," Kanzo nodded. "Until we find out who'd behind this, would you like armed guards?"

"No. The more vulnerable I appear, the better. If our sensors can't find them, I want to draw them to myself."

"Very good then. And how should we see to Lady Shiori's protection?"

An alarm sounded in Hanzō's head. The series of mysterious events that day had caused him to momentarily forget all about her. Now, the thought that she could be in danger disturbed some unknown, deep part of him. Never had someone's safety been placed so completely in his hands. Hanzō studied the new sensation. _Was this worry?_

"I have full faith in Rika," Kanzo continued, "but given the uncertainty of who we're up against, I imagine you'd like to be prepared."

"Summon all the sensors at once to start looking for the invaders," Hanzō commanded, already exiting the examining room. "I'll see to Shiori myself."

* * *

As Hanzō ventured deeper into the city, he couldn't shake his growing unease; unease that something may have already happened to Shiori and unease that the thought of her harmed affected him so. He was growing too fond of her. Since she'd arrived, she'd integrated herself into his life so seamlessly that it was already hard to imagine having dinner without her. She was a professional conversationalist, after all. The thought of returning to his tradition of solitary meals depressed him. Shiori was a luxury that, having lived with her, he hated the thought of losing.

She was also helpful. Maintaining the city's defense consumed nearly all of his time. He'd long before realized that he needed entrust Amegakure's humanitarian issues to someone else, but his closest associations were shinobi, and he needed their skills for defense. Gradually allowing Shiori more responsibility as she grew knowledgeable and trustworthy freed both his schedule and his mind.

It was only when the training center came into view that Hanzō remembered Shiori's challenge. _It would have to wait._ She would be disappointed, but sooner or later, Shiori needed to learn matters of security took precedence over _everything_.

At least, that's what he thought until he _saw her_. As Hanzō entered the center, Shiori stood waiting for him at the back of the room. Back straight, arms on her hips, and head held high in mock bravado, she clearly thought herself the very definition of fierce. Most surprising of all, however, was the Amegakure forehead protector tied around her waist. For a moment, amusement replaced Hanzō's concerns. "Rika," Hanzō called to the figure lounging against the wall in the shadows. "Where did she get that forehead protector?"

"It was my request," Shiori answered for Rika as a diabolical half smile lit her features. "I thought I'd save you the trouble of tying it on me yourself after our fight."

"Are you telling me you've improved enough today to surprise me?" Hanzō asked rhetorically, relishing her audacity. " _That_ is the only way you can prove yourself worthy enough to wear that band. But enough of this," Hanzō turned, beckoning Rika and Shiori to follow him. "You must come with me immediately. Something has come up, and I'm afraid our match will have to wait."

At that very instant, Hanzō heard the twang of a string. Reacting immediately, Hanzō instinctively outstretched his arm, catching the arrow that Shiori had just fired without even looking. "Nice try, Shiori, but I'm afraid we don't have time for games right now."  
Turning to address Shiori, Hanzō regarded the arrow in his hand for the first time and dropped it immediately. _A paper bomb!_ Hanzō leapt backwards as the arrow exploded where he had stood only moments before. _So, Shiori had attached explosive tags to her arrows_. Hanzō was impressed. _Perhaps there was time for this fight after all_. "Interesting, Shiori!" Hanzō exclaimed as excitement and intrigue replaced his concerns. "Fine then. I'll play. I'm curious to see what else you have in store for me."

"A word of caution, then, Hanzō," Shiori purred, restringing her bow, "I'm not bluffing." Shiori released the arrow, causing Hanzō to jump back. To his surprise, rather than exploding upon impact with the ground, smoke enveloped the room. _So she fixed a smoke bomb to this one. Good thinking_. Hanzō was already impressed with Shiori's progress. While Rika had likely influenced Shiori's strategy, it still took skill to execute. Hanzō backed further to the wall of the room. _I think I understand her strategy now. As long as she's firing from long range, I have time to dodge. She's trying to lessen my reaction time by obscuring her position. Whenever an arrow pierces the smoke, I'll only have an instant to react. However . . . how is she going to know how to find me?_ Hanzō decided not to take action and to see what Shiori did next.

Soon after, not one, but a shower of arrows emerged from the fog. _Is she shooting blindly or_ , Hanzō thought moving slightly to the left before an arrow could graze his ear, _am I not her target?_ Behind them, the arrows exploded as they collided into the wall, causing a cascade of rubble to collapse around him. Hanzō jumped back from the wall. Only then did he notice the explosive tags attached to larger pieces of debris cascading around him. Even Hanzō had to react quickly to avoid the series of proceeding blasts. Dodging one after another, Hanzō found himself in the center of the room. "You've trapped this room nicely, Shiori. I wasn't expecting you to take advantage of the dilapidation. Is there more?"

Shiori lowered her bow slightly and beckoned him with a flirtatious flick of her hand and wrist. "Come see."

 _So, Shiori wanted to engage him at short range now_. Hanzō rushed her, readying his kusarigama to defend himself if needed. If nothing else, Shiori had proven herself worthy of approaching with caution. As he neared her, Shiori leapt back suddenly and crouched to the ground. Sticking her hand into a pouch attached to her thigh, Shiori then spread what appeared to be a film of oil on the ground. Hanzō didn't have much time to inspect, for moments later, the line she drew erupted in flame as she ignited it with a small burst of chakra. "I applaud your clever use of oil rather than chakra to fuel your kekkei genkai, however, a simple fire barrier won't protect you from me." Brandishing his kusarigama, Hanzō launched the chain over the barrier. After securely wrapping his target, Shiori's bow, Hanzō pulled the chain, sending the bow hurdling towards him through the flames. "I'm curious to see how you'll adapt to being disarmed, Shiori."

Shiori was soon to follow, launching herself after the bow. As Hanzō raised the bar of his kusarigama to block Shiori from retrieving the weapon, he was surprised yet again as she instead locked on to the bar of his kusargama with both hands. Instantly, they burst into flames. "You forget _these_ arms, Hanzō!" As the metal of the kusarigama heated from the flames, it began to glow an ominous pale gold. Weary, of the spreading molten metal, Hanzō allowed the kusarigama fall to the ground. Shiori braced herself for a short range attack, but Hanzō simply waived her off.

"I've seen enough Shiori. That will be all for today."

"But you haven't attacked at all!" Shiori huffed. "It wounds my pride to think that I haven't even earned a single offensive maneuver."

Hanzō lay his hand on Shiori's downy head. "Don't underestimate what you did today. You managed to disarm me with your bare hands, something that hasn't happened since I was a child. I'm impressed with you, Shiori." As the words sounded in his ears, Hanzō realized they were true in more ways than one. Shiori never ceased to amaze him. She was courageous, charming, and as today had shown, very clever. "How much of this was your doing, Rika?"

Rika shrugged, dragging herself from her roost to the center of the room where Hanzō and Shiori stood. "Not much. Mainly lifting rocks, really. We've got a long ways to go with her strength training."

"And it was Rika's suggestion to trap the room. Still, there was more I'd planned to show you."

"It will have to wait until another time."

"What makes you think there will be another time?" Shiori flashed him a mischievous sideways smile. "If I refuse to grant you another audience, it serves you right for losing interest in me so quickly today," Shiori pouted dramatically, her spirits evidently returning to normal.

Hanzō's hand traveled from Shiori's head to underneath her chin. "As my wife, you don't have the right to deny me anything."

"You wouldn't say things like that if you'd seen what else I had in store for you," Shiori retorted weakly as a fierce blush spread across her face undermining her bravado.

Though Hanzō had been the one disarmed, her reaction registered as a victory in his mind. He relished her responsiveness to his touch. "If you're this good at verbal sparring, I'm sure you're a formidable adversary," Hanzō patted Shiori's head in consolation. Over the past three months, he'd caught a bad case of Shiori's sarcasm.

He had caught a bad case of _Shiori_. At that moment, Hanzō realized she was quickly infecting areas of his life he'd never shared with anyone. From the start, his mistake had been viewing her as a prize of war. As he grew to know her better, he no longer thought her only a political pawn. Rather, she was the sum of her personality, abilities, interests, and convictions. She was a powerful woman - _his woman_ \- and he was beginning to care deeply for her. Thoughts of Shiori reminded Hanzō's of his mission. _He needed Shiori to return to the city immediately_.

As if summoned by the turn in his thoughts, Kanzo and a squadron of men appeared at the entrance to the facility. "Hanzō," he called urgently, "we've found them."


	13. Chapter 13

Kanzo's entrance broke Shiori's trance. Until this moment, the intimacy with which Hanzō touched her face made her mind go blank. "Them?"

"Is it Suna?" Hanzō inquired urgently, dropping his hand and attention from Shiori.

Kanzo nodded in affirmation.

"How many?"

Kanzo frowned. "One team. And Hanzō," his frown deepened, "it's that woman again."

"Chiyo." _Dammit_. The woman was becoming a thorn in his side. The first time they'd fought during one of Suna's periodic raids through Amegakure, he counted her retreat as his victory. However, after the second fight he'd become wary. He doubted more and more that she was there to make a push through to the Leaf and began to wonder if she was simply trying to gather more information on him and his poison. The fact that Suna had only sent one team this time only strengthened his suspicions. "Do they know they've been spotted?"

"No. We used sensors instead of scouts to find them. Technically, no human eye has seen them."

"Good. Where are they, and where are they going?"

"They are still some miles from the city, progressing slowly. We expect them to reach the city by nightfall."

"I'd prefer not to engage them in the city. We'll head immediately into the countryside on the opposite side of the village. That will ensure they bypass this place and will give us time to prepare for their arrival."

"How many teams should I prepare?"

"No less than twenty. Prepare to engage them with our full strength. I don't like the looks of this, especially knowing that Chiyo's involved. Be prepared to leave in thirty minutes."

"Very good sir," Kanzo nodded. Weaving a hand signal, he vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Could Suna's team be messengers?" Shiori asked, trying to process the situation from what little she knew. "Surely they can't intend any harm, sending so few."

"Suna doesn't need to send large numbers to cause harm. The leader of this team, Chiyo, is captain of Suna's Puppet Brigade. I imagine she's brought several of them with her that Kanzo's sensors couldn't detect."

"So it's true, then," his wife's eyes widened in wonder. "Suna shinobi can fight with puppets." Whereas Konohagakure and Amegakure at present uneasy allies, Konohagkure and Sunagakure were mortal enemies. Though growing up Shiori had always attempted to view situations from an unbiased perspective, it was nearly impossible to escape the national bias against Konoha's longest enemy. Despite this prejudice, she had to commend Suna. "It's a brilliant technique."

"It is brilliant that they've devised a way to multiply their forces without putting shinobi at risk," Hanzō agreed without reluctance. "However, it's infuriating to combat, even more so when they lose only chakra and puppets while I lose lives."

"May I come with you?"

Hanzō considered. The alternative was to leave her in the city with an armed guard. But the safest place she could possibly be was by his side. And besides, he wanted her to witness Amegakure's constant struggle for herself. "Fine. But you are to remain far from the battlefield at all times. Rika, I'm pleased with your work here. I leave Shiori in your care."

"Sir," Rika accepted, bowing. "Suits me fine anyway. My darts aren't very useful against puppets."

"Be prepared to leave in thirty minutes." And with the wave of a hand sign, Hanzō also vanished in a puff of smoke.

* * *

Shiori tried her best to fight back a yawn to no avail. Though she desperately wanted to stay awake for fear of missing the action, the late hour and darkness of the tent were gradually lulling her to sleep. Only the heavy suspense and an ominous chill in the air served to keep her awake. Reminded of the coolness of the air on her skin, Shiori rubbed the arms of her new, long-sleeved uniform.

Their camp was located by the outskirts of a side of the city Shiori had never noticed before. As they passed through earlier, Shiori realized why. Like other suburbs of Amegakure, this one contained multi-storied residences descending in height as they neared the city edge. Unlike the neighborhoods she'd seen, however, these were eerily silent. No living thing, save for a sewer rat or two, stirred the abandoned streets. Belongings lay strewn across the ground as if their owners had abandoned them in a great hurry. Because no light lit their broken out windows, this side of the city had been swallowed up in darkness. It surprised Shiori that the civil war had penetrated this deeply into the capital city. As they passed through, it seemed as though the suburb's solemnness engulfed Hanzō's entire party. After several vain attempts to engage others in conversation, Shiori had succumbed to the area's silence. The quiet impressed her; how could an assembly of sixty men make so little sound?

The sedated atmosphere of the party continued as the sun set and darkness fell over the makeshift tents Hanzō's men erected. Per Hanzō's orders, all tents were kept nearly pitch dark as night fell to protect their position on the plains. The only light within Shiori's tent came from a small candle in the center. From it, Shiori could only barely see Rika's silhouette lounging against the tent pole. Shiori regarded her silent companion wearily. When Hanzō assigned Rika the job of guarding her, Shiori had not had the opportunity to voice her concerns. Shiori could now see why Hanzō had been initially dubious of Rika's fitness as a guardian. Her comments about her fellow orphans suggested that preserving human life _was not_ her top priority.

Just then, the silence was interrupted by the quiet flap of the tent entrance followed by the entrance of Kanzo. "Rika," spoke the older man's voice quietly, "come with me please. Lady Shiori, I've arranged a replacement for Rika until her return." With that, a large male figure entered the tent and bowed.

Shiori managed to decipher "Good evening m'am," from the intruder's gravelly voice.

"Yes sir," Rika acquiesced, straightening from her roost. "Behave while I'm gone," Rika winked at Shiori before disappearing with Kanzo behind the tent flap.

Sighing in relief at her guardian's departure, Shiori turned her attention to the new arrival. The shinobi who had just entered the tent was a man of average height wearing an eye mask and a laced onezie uniform. He, like the majority of Hanzō's soldiers, also wore a respirator. Shiori wondered whether that meant Ibuse would be making an appearance this evening.

"Good evening!" She approached him with a smile warm enough to break the ice. "What's going on? Have they spotted the enemy yet?"

"Not yet," the masked shinobi shook his head, "but that gives us time to finish preparing for their arrival."

"Preparing?" Shiori asked excitedly. "Does that mean you've been setting traps?" During her training, Rika often discussed the clever traps Hanzō set for his enemies that both saved his men's lives and won decisive victories. The prospect that she might actually get to see one of his strategies unfold thrilled her.

"Yes," the shinobi kneeled to the ground. "About 250 yards from the front line," the shinobi explained, drawing a line through the dark soil with his index finger, "we've set a barrier of explosives. As soon as they cross that, they're finished."

"That's it?" Shiori kneeled beside him, smile turning gentle. "You must have great confidence in Lord Hanzō. Aren't you frightened at all?"

"No way!" the shinobi exclaimed, voice tremoring with conviction. "If by some miracle they survive, Hanzō will crush them in an instant."

"But what about your own life? Don't you feel concerned for yourself?"

"Don't you see," the shinobi's arms spread in question, "we all _want_ to give our lives up for this. They're no way I'd rather go than dying as part of Lord Hanzō's master plan."

"His master plan?" Shiori was suddenly weary of the zealous gleam in the young shinobi's eyes. "You mean Lord Hanzō's plans to unify Amegakure?" _What plan was he referring to? Unifying Amegakure? Or was there something more?_

"Amegakure's only the first stop. Lord Hanzō's going to rule the _entire shinobi world_ one day. You just wait and see."

Shiori prayed her face didn't betray the skepticism she felt. _Did Hanzō actually want to rule the entire shinobi world?_ It couldn't be. No on in their right mind would make such an undertaking seriously. Surely this shinobi in his adoration of Hanzō had simply overestimated and exaggerated his abilities. _No matter how far Hanzō had risen through the ranks, how far could strength alone carry a man?_ While Shiori admired Hanzō greatly for his achievements, she wasn't entirely confident a self-taught shinobi from the countryside could unify an entire nation, let alone the entire shinobi world. Not wanting to offend the young ninja, Shiori nodded as if in complete agreement.

"Yes. We'll see."

* * *

After half an hour of Shiori's questioning, the tent flap parted once more at the entrance of Hanzō, Rika, and Kanzo. Still crouching, Shiori and the masked shinobi rose to their feet to give a curt bow.

"We're about to begin. Shiori, you are stay with Rika at all times, understood?"

"Of course," the blonde nodded as a surge of excitement flared in her veins. "Have they arrived?"

Hanzō's brows deepened, shadows from the candlelight intensifying his frustrated expression. "Not exactly. They've stopped advancing, which means we'll have to meet them on the field. Rika," his eyes darted to the woman standing beside him, "if conflict erupts, don't let her near it. I'm warning you, if you try anything this time, it will end badly for you."

"Sir," Rika merely bobbed her head and smiled. "Shiori is safe with me."

"Lady Shiori," Kanzo interjected, "please put this on. It will help our shinobi identify you." Kanzo handed her a dark bundle of cloth.

Unfolding it, Shiori discovered a dark purple flak vest. Pulling it over her shoulders, Shiori noticed the chest was decorated with the Hattori family's swirl. The young woman traced the pattern reverently, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift. "Thank you," she managed to utter.

"One more thing," her husband added, producing an additional, smaller fold of cloth. "Turn around."

Curious, Shiori obeyed as Hanzō unfolded the cloth and tied it around her forehead.

"But this is-"

"Your forehead protector," Hanzō completed. "I told you that you would only earn this if you managed to surprise me. Congratulations. You are now Amegakure's first _honorary_ genin."

Shiori's fingers migrated from her vest to the four vertical lines marking her forehead as a bright smile burst across her features. She had not earned this; to this day she could not tell her signs apart and had control over less than a handful of jutsu. Shiori realized this was no marker of achievement. It was a _gift_. While she was hard-pressed to think of anything less romantic, it was the most meaningful thing he could have given her. Both Amegakure's insignia on her forehead and the Hattori crest blazoned across her chest were symbols of his acceptance of her.

Shiori laughed in an effort to stifle joyful tears. "Well since I've progressed so quickly, perhaps you should think twice about making me sit on the sidelines. Maybe I could even cover _you_."

Her husband's brows raised in what she now recognized as playful skepticism. "Save your protection for Rika. She will need it more than me," Hanzō patted his wife roughly on the head. "Kanzo-" he turned to his assistant, "it's time."

Within moments, Hanzō's resolve spread throughout the camp rousing the shinobi from their subdued silence to excited preparation. As excitement within the camp grew, however, a weight began to grow in Shiori's heart. For the first time, she realized her husband was going to war. And for the first time, _she felt a twinge of worry_.


	14. Chapter 14

As Hanzō stalked towards the frontline, three bundled figures came into focus. Even though cloth caps concealed their foreheads, and their bodies were buried beneath multiple layers of shapeless fabric, the three shinobi _reeked_ of Sunagakure. The three Sand shinobi had stopped only feet away from the first line of traps. This didn't surprise Hanzō, but it didn't please him either. Between the three of them, Hanzō counted four puppets. Of course, that meant very little since puppets, like all weapons, could be summoned by the wave of a hand sign. Hanzō decided it was best to eliminate the sand trio quickly before they could summon reinforcements. During Hanzō's thought process, the center shinobi lifted its cap to reveal pale hair and a pudgy, smirking face. Hanzō's eyes narrowed in distaste at the sight of his now-familiar foe, Chiyo.

"Chiyo. Fate has already spared you from my blade twice. It's ungrateful of you to try its patience," Hanzō growled, brandishing his kusarigama. "Whatever miracle has spared you up until now will not save you this time."

"Hu-hu-hu!" the kunoichi bellowed in response. "I see we weren't as sneaky as we'd thought! This is all _your_ fault, Ebizō," the small, stoat kunoichi elbowed one of her male companions.

"Nonsense!" the taller shinobi to Chiyo's left spat in response, "I told you leaving those Ame shinobi out in the open was a bad idea! Any dolt could have found them!"

"Enough talk!" Hanzō interjected, patience rapidly shrinking. "You can continue your discussion in hell! _IBUSE!_ " In a swift sequence of motions, Hanzō unrolled a scroll from his belt and smeared it with blood from his palm. The blood reacted with the parchment to produce a plume of purple smoke. Moments later, Hanzō found himself rising into the air as his summoned salamander sprouted from the ground. "Do it, Ibuse!" Hanzō cued. "Now," Hanzō's attention snapped back to the foreign trio below him, "be bathed with poison and _die!_ "

A cloud of toxic, purple smoke enveloped the battlefield. "HU-HU-HU," Hanzō's nemesis's laugh pierced the opaque fog. "Turning us away at your doorstep, are you? What hospitality. I haven't even given you your host gift yet!" Once reaching a safe distance from the fog, the kunoichi and her team planted themselves in a three-man formation. Grabbing a scroll from her own pouch, Chiyo unraveled the parchment. " _White Secret Technique: Chikamatsu Collection of Ten Puppets!_ " A series of popping sounds signaled the arrival of Chiyo's ten, grotesque puppets.

 _I suspected as much._ Hanzō knew one drawback to his traps was that his opponent could potentially use them as their own shield. By hiding behind the traps, his shinobi could not attack the puppet masters directly. Instead, his forces would have to eliminate enough of the puppets to allow him to cross the traps and personally meet the puppeteers head on. Hanzō's eyes dashed from puppet to puppet. With the new additions, there were now fourteen. Sixty shinobi and himself versus fourteen puppets. _Child's play_.

At the sight of a small movement below him, Hanzō's eyes shot to the male teammate Chiyo had argued with before. "Always have to be first, don't you sister?" Chiyo's brother chided. "Well, I won't let you hog all the glory. _Secret Art, Chakra Threads!_ "

 _Shit_. Hanzō's eyes widened in alarm. _More puppets were about to enter the battlefield than he had bargained for_.

* * *

Peeking outside her tent, Shiori could make out the outline of a wall of shinobi, but nothing more. Despite the poor visibility and light rain that had begun to fall during the night, she could tell that conflict could erupt at any moment. The shinobi all stood with knees slightly bent, feet shoulder width apart, as if ready to spring into action in a moment's notice. However, from this angle, she would not be able to see the fight. "Do you think we could move a little closer without putting ourselves in danger? Perhaps if we moved to the edge of the battlefield at the far corner? I can't see or hear anything."

Rika's head suddenly popped out above Shiori's, causing the hairs on the young woman's neck to stand on end. Shifting from left to right, Rika's teal eyes carefully assessed the situation. "I think that can be arranged. I wouldn't mind a better view myself."

"I'm afraid that's not a good idea," Shiori's masked guard shook his head. Shiori found it strange that when his comrades headed to the front time, he remained behind.

The young lady's lips formed a slight pout. There would be no moving forward with this man around. Shiori wracked her brain to think of a way to get rid her obstacle. "But don't you want to experience the action with your friends?" Shiori appealed to his pride, "Please don't feel like you have to stay here with me. Rika and I will be fine. I'm sure Lord Hanzō needs you more on the front line than in this tent." _Hopefully dropping Hanzō's name would convince him._

She was wrong. The immutable shinobi merely shook his head again. "My orders are to remain here until Lord Hanzō or a superior instructs otherwise."

" _I_ instruct otherwise," Rika turned her attention from the battlefield to the masked shinobi.

"But-but-" he stuttered in frustration, "you are no superior of mine! You have no authority to-"

"Are you sure?" Though smiling, Shiori could have sworn she saw a threat flicker in Rika's eyes. Apparently, their male companion was not sure. Rather than dispute with Rika, he merely shifted his feet in discomfort. Now that Shiori thought about it, _what was Rika's rank?_ She didn't fit into any hierarchy Shiori observed, and was not a member of a three man squad. Shiori filed away yet another question for Hanzō.

"I'll rephrase the question," Rika continued, wrapping an arm around the now _very_ nervous shinobi. "Would you rather stay in this tent alone, guarding yourself until Lord Hanzō returns, or would you rather guard Lady Shiori outside with me?"

"Ve-very well," he squirmed under Rika's grasp, "but I do not approve of this." His unease must have been contagious, because Shiori was starting to agree with him.

* * *

Grabbing their equipment, including Shiori's bow which hadn't left her side since her earlier spar with Hanzō, Rika, Shiori, and the reluctant, masked shinobi staked out a short distance behind the front line. Reaching their position just in time to see Ibuse emerge from the ground, the three watched in awe as the massive creature filled the night sky. This time, the sight of Ibuse filled Shiori with pride rather than fear. Even so, she was happy to be on the opposite side of the purple cloud that soon enveloped the battlefield.

"HA!" Shiori's male escort balled his fists in excitement. "Game over. Even if they miss the traps, they won't escape Ibuse."

Unable to see through the thick fog, the three waited instead to hear triumphant shouts signaling victory. Instead, there was silence. And then, a few clangs from the clashing of metal. And then, shouts. _But these were no shouts of joy._ "What's going on?!" The male shinobi shot up in alarm. "Stay back–I'm going to figure out what's happening." Tightening his respirator in preparation for the poisonous plunge into Ibuse's cloud, the shinobi took off towards the field. After only a few feet, however, the shinobi stopped dead in his tracks. "What's happening to me? I–I can't move!"

Shiori and Rika looked on in shock as the shinobi's limbs began to flail widely, his body turning from the battlefield to face them directly. "What is this?! LOOK OUT! I think I'm going to attack you! I can't stop myself!" Shiori watched, frozen in terror, as her escort turned enemy lunged at them with a drawn kunai. Closing her eyes and bracing herself for impact, Shiori instead felt the splash of warm moisture on her face. Opening her eyes, Shiori witnessed the shinobi slump to his feet, chest impaled by Rika's kunai. Shiori screamed.

"It's alright now," Rika said plainly, kneeling beside the mortally wounded shinobi. "But the enemy is controlling our forces like puppets with chakra threads. We should probably head back to the tent before they attach to me."

Barely aware of Rika's speech, Shiori crawled frantically to their fallen comrade. " _Oh my god! Oh my god! Rika! Rika we have to help him!_ "

Rika's head tilted sideways in consideration. "He's probably too far gone. I'm pretty sure I pierced his heart just now." Studying the shinobi a few moments more, the nonchalant kunoichi shrugged. "What a mess. Ah well, let's get going then."

" _But you did this to him!_ " Shiori's shouts rose in hysteria. " _We can't just leave him like this!_ " Lifting the shinobi's head into her lap, the young woman watched helplessly as the man's ragged breathing grew quiet.

"Aw, little Shiori," Rika crooned, withdrawing her kunai from the now still shinobi, "that's just how war works. Shinobi are like dolls. Once they break, you can't play with them anymore. And besides, we don't have time to fix broken dolls," Rika outstretched her hand to help Shiori to her feet. "Let's go."

Shiori stared at Rika's hand as though it were a snake poised to strike her. Desperate to be anywhere but here with Rika, Shiori searched frantically for an escape. _There was none_. On all sides, she and her now one escort were surrounded by confused screams and bloodshed. Panic began to surge through her.

"Shiori?" Shiori gasped as Rika's face appeared before her own. "Didn't you hear me? Come on, let's go," Rika suggested, gently clasping Shiori's arm.

On edge from the horrific sequence of events, Shiori _snapped_. " _DON'T TOUCH ME!_ " Shiori screamed, slapping Rika with more strength than either knew she possessed. Rika reeled backward, hand covering the reddening skin on her face as Shiori gasped, appalled by her actions. Seconds passed as neither woman spoke. When Rika finally lifted her face again, her eyes were open wide and her smile had vanished completely. _This wasn't Rika._ The sudden transformation sent a chill down Shiori's spine. _What had she done?_

"Rika? Rika, I'm sorry. What's wrong?" The teal-eyed woman made no response. "I'm sorry Rika, but we can't just stand here!" Still no response. Whatever Shiori had triggered in Rika had taken full control of and immobilized the green haired woman. Though Rika's teal eyes locked with her own, Shiori couldn't tell whether Rika understood or heard a word she was saying. "Rika, we don't have time for this. We need to go _now_. _What can I say to make you move_?!"

At last, Rika responded in a voice as emotionless as her expression.

"Tell me where to go."


	15. Chapter 15

"Tell me where to go."

With Rika unresponsive, Shiori realized she was down from two guards to negative one. Somehow, _she_ would have to get them both out of here. Surveying what she could see of the battlefield, Shiori determined their best bet at safety was to return to the tent. Shiori frowned, gazing at the fallen shinobi still in her arms. _What guarantee was there that Rika wouldn't suffer a similar fate?_ Even she herself could be ensnared in the invisible threads. And of course, the longer they sat here, the longer they both ran that risk.

Shiori's teeth clenched in concentration. _Somehow, someone needed to disrupt those threads. What had gone wrong? Weren't there supposed to be traps to prevent this sort of thing?_ "Rika, why aren't the traps going off? Where are they?"

"The enemy must have noticed them and is operating from behind," her companion responded mechanically, face remaining deadpan.

 _So the traps were still there_. The enemy was just maneuvering over them. "What kinds of traps are they?"

"Explosives."

 _Perfect_. "If we could somehow activate those traps, do you think the explosion could disrupt the threads long enough for us to retreat to the tent?"

To Shiori's relief, a spark of cognition flashed in Rika's eyes. "That . . . could work.

"Then I think I have an idea," Shiori gasped, grabbing an arrow from her quiver. "Did you bring your chakra tags?"

"Yes; they're in my pouch here."

"Do you think," Shiori theorized, excitement mounting, "that if we attached _your_ chakra tags to _my_ arrows and set them on fire, you could guide them far enough to activate the traps?"

"We would need to be closer. We're on the opposite side of the battlefield. So we'd have to pass through _that_ ," she motioned to the chaotic, purple haze. "Calling it a dangerous route would be an understatement."

"We're in danger no matter where we are," Shiori argued. "Let's try this."

"At your command, m'am," Rika stated without protest. "Tell me what to do."

"No matter what happens, just cover me."

Shiori and the eerily compliant Rika spent the next few moments attaching Rika's tags to Shiori's arrows before launching themselves into the field. Together, they predicted that as long as Shiori fired within 800 feet, the arrow's natural propulsion augmented by Rika's chakra and guidance could carry the arrows far enough. The challenge would be maintaining a defense long enough to fire. As Rika and Shiori stormed the field, Rika whistled to rally those nearest to them to their side. Completely focused on her target, Shiori was only vaguely aware of a figure flanking them to her right before Rika deflected the attacker and barked orders to the able-bodied shinobi around them.

Support secured and safe in their position, Rika and Shiori planted themselves to fire. "Let me know when you're ready, Rika."

" _Tori, u, uma, tatsu, TORI!_ " the kunoichi shouted, " _FIRE!_ "

At Rika's signal, Shiori released her bowstring in rapid succession, firing in each direction Rika indicated. For Shiori, all time and motion stopped completely except for the arrows as she watched them begin their decent, only then to gain their second wind through the help of Rika's chakra. Biting her lip for the crucial moment of impact, the blonde was instead startled from behind as she found herself lifted in Rika's arms and carried away from the field. Writhing in Rika's arms, Shiori struggled to look back.

"Relax Shiori," Rika coaxed with a smile, "I'm just covering you." Opening her mouth to protest, Shiori's cries were swallowed up by a resounding _BOOM_.

* * *

From the vantage of Ibuse's head, Hanzo carefully surveyed the spectacle below him. Satisfied, the shinobi tapped the salamander gently on the head with the butt of his kusarigama. "Retreat for now, Ibuse." Without a moment's hesitation, the lizard buried his front legs into the moist earth and burrowed below its surface. Leaping to the ground, Hanzo calculated his next move. As he suspected, the puppeteers remained defenseless from behind as their puppets stormed the field. For now, he would have Ibuse burrow under the Suna invaders and attack from behind at his command. With Ibuse in the rear, the puppeteers would lose control of their chakra strings or redirect them from the field to Ibuse. Either way, _it didn't matter_. As soon as Ibuse appeared, they would be pushed into his traps and his hands.

For now, _all he had to do was buy time_. It would take Ibuse five minutes before he could store up enough poison for his next attack. In the meantime, he would busy himself by distracting Chiyo and taking out the puppets which now flanked his sides. If he could parry them for two minutes and destroy them in one, _the battle was his_.

Raising his kusasrigama to strike, Hanzo was suddenly distracted by a tremendous _BOOM_. "WHAT?!" Checking to his sides, Hanzo saw that the men to his left and right were suddenly freed, and several puppets had fallen lifeless to the ground. He would have to figure out what had happened later. For now, _he needed send off his Suna guests_.

* * *

Once the deafening roar subsided, Shiori opened her eyes to view the seen from Rika's arms. All around them, shinobi were helping one another off the ground and running towards the clearing the explosions had created. Glancing lastly up at Rika, Shiori noticed an angry, red gash on her guard's collarbone. "Rika! You're-"

" _Shh_ ," Rika shushed Shiori's mouth with her index finger. " _Watch_."

Shiori _felt_ what Rika was talking about before her eyes could see. The now-familiar rumble of Ibuse tunneled under them, followed by a titanic burst from the ground showered all present in a cloud of dust. Once the dust subsided, it became clear that the Suna shinobi were now surrounded by Ibuse on one side, and Amegakure's forces on the other. And above it all, a familiar voice shouting, "IBUSE, AGAIN!" The battlefield was once more obfuscated in purple smoke, but this time, Shiori caught the faint glint of a metal blade ascending into the cloud, followed by the booming voice of her husband.

"Consume my poison and die! It's a suitable ending for you!"

Just then, a flash of lightening illuminated the sky enough for Shiori to witness a part in the cloud created by the slice of Hanzo's kusarigama. Inside, the remnants of the Suna shinobi's puppet's exploded and crumbled before raining to the ground. So stunned by what she had witnessed, Shiori didn't even feel her mouth drop in awe. _Was this really the power of one man?_

Or was he a god?

While cheers rang throughout the battlefield, not all were pleased. Leaping back into formation, the Suna shinobi fell behind Chiyo as she unraveled a scroll from her waistband, waved a hand signal, and retreated in a puff of smoke. All that remained of their invasion were a few pieces of puppet and several fallen shinobi.

As the cheers and applause continued, Hanzo released Ibuse from the summon and made his way towards his people. "ENOUGH," he shouted over the silencing crowd, "who among you set off these traps?" The crowd was silent now, as men and women parted to clear a path to Shiori and Rika. Hanzo's eyes grew wide with displeasure. "SHIORI."

Suddenly, Shiori felt _very_ afraid. Afraid for herself for having displeased Hanzo, and fear for Rika who she had coerced to disobey him. Glancing again at her companion, she was alarmed to see that Rika did not look well. Her cut was still bleeding, and her skin had turned almost a sickly green. "This-it's not what you think! This is all my fault-I was just trying to help!"

Hanzo's eyebrows deepened further. "The situation was under control, Shiori."

"It's just that I saw someone get hurt, someone die and-"

"Dying is part of a shinobi's job description. Look around you! Through your foreign eyes, you see nothing but a bloodstained, barren grassland. But through _ours_ , we see a garden of rebellion. The blood of shinobi waters the ground so the seeds of hate can grow and fuels the anger we need to end Amegakure's war and all wars forever. It was wrong of you to interfere in this process."

"So it's true," Shiori whispered to herself as much as to Hanzo, "you actually want to rule the world." _Had the masked shinobi told the truth after all?_

"I will unite this world," Hanzo corrected, "for as long as there are weak nations and strong nations, the strong will trample the rights of the weak. Therefore, there will be no peace for Amegakure as long as the great nations are in opposition. Divided, they will never reconcile. That is why for true peace, I must unite them all."

"That cannot be true!" Shiori protested. "Konohagakure has always respected the rights-"

"Has it? In your father's time through today, Konoha and the other great nations continue to treat Ame as their personal highway in a pointless war neither remembers why was started," Hanzo crossed his arms contemptuously. "Even if your Konohagakure has the best intentions, it is no different from the rest."

 _Was it?_ Shiori looked around her at the ruined village behind her and the limping forces surrounding her. _Was Konoha partially to blame for holding Amegakure back from development and peace? From failing to stop a war that no longer, if ever, carried any meaning? And was unifying the shinobi world the only solution?_ Gathering her courage, Shiori met Hanzo's gaze with her own. It was _a solution,_ and with Hanzo in charge, it might actually work. Amegakure needed a miracle to end its war. The shinobi nations needed a miracle to put aside their pride and live side by side again. _And Hanzo was nothing short of miraculous_.

Releasing herself from Rika's grasp, Shiori steadily walked toward Hanzo and kneeled shortly before him, completely oblivious that the action coated her legs and shoes in thick mud.

"If you truly can end these wars, and after what I have seen today, I have no doubts you can, I am at your service. Please let me help you in any way I can."

"If you want to help me," Hanzo crouched beside her to lift her to her feet, "start by trying to stay alive."


	16. Chapter 16

When Shiori awoke, Amegakure's now familiar neon lights cast a red glow around Shiori's room. Though stories above the streets, she could hear that the city below bustled with nightlife. _What time was it?_ After returning from the field earlier that morning, Shiori had mechanically bathed and saw herself to bed. On the way home, her exhaustion from yesterday afternoon and last night's events had consumed her. Upset by the battle, Rika's injuries, and Hanzō's anger, she sought escape in temporary oblivion.

With much reluctance, Shiori dragged herself from bed. Escaping responsibility wasn't in her character, and she needed to apologize to Hanzō and advocate for Rika as soon as possible. She shuddered at the memory of medic shinobi carrying Rika away on her stretcher, eerily still. Surely, Hanzō would not take any action against Rika in such grave condition. Even so, the sooner she could redirect his wrath, the better.

Grabbing her mask and stepping out of her room, Shiori suddenly realized she had no idea where Hanzō's room was located. With the assistance of the nearest guard, Shiori made her way to Hanzō's suite on the second to top floor. When Shiori arrived, she found her husband in deep counsel with several of his leading officers, Kanzo included. Shiori flinched at the realization that Kanzo was likely angry with her too for wounding his adopted daughter. Mentally, she added Kanzo to her list of apologies to make. The shinobi sat around a low, wooden table. At the center, among scrolls, figurines, and sake cups, rested a broken arrow.

Surveying the room and concluding that Hanzō was occupied, Shiori began to back out. "I'm sorry to intrude. I see that you're busy. I'll come back another-"

"That won't be necessary," Hanzō silenced her with his hand. "We're through here for the night. Report to me as usual tomorrow morning." After a chorus of "Yes sir," Hanzō's officers filed out of the room, leaving her alone with her husband. Though still wary of his mood, Shiori was relieved to find him in their home. At least here he ceased to be a fierce deity and returned to being her husband. With the realization, some of her courage returned.

"I'm sorry for such a late intrusion, but I've come to apologize for today. You were right; it was wrong of me to interfere. If you have a moment now, I would like to explain, so you will understand that Rika is in no way to blame."

"Sit," Hanzō instructed, rolling several scrolls from the table and placing them out of eyesight.

"It was my idea to leave the tent," Shiori continued as she obeyed Hanzō's order, "my fault Rika was injured, and my fault at least one of your men died today."

"Rika knew better than to bring you to the battlefield," Hanzō growled. "But fortunately, you survived. And if it's any comfort, we only lost three men today."

"'Only' and 'three' pertaining to lives don't belong in the same sentence."

"You will become immune to death here soon enough. Actually, the reason so few fell today was partially due to your quick thinking." Hanzō retrieved the broken arrow from the table and rolled it in his fingers. "Was this your idea? It was clever to attach Rika's guidance tags to your arrows. But you got lucky today. You underestimated the enemy and rushed the field without proper cover. It's a miracle you escaped unscathed, and Rika only slightly injured by a poisoned puppet blade."

"Will Rika be alright?"

"She will recover from the poison in time, but her injury should be the least of her concerns."

Despite Hanzō's threat, Shiori exhaled a sigh of relief. _Rika was out of imminent danger_. "I did underestimate the enemy today. But that's not all; I underestimated you as well. Witnessing what I saw today, I understand why Amegakure places its faith in you. And I spoke the truth earlier; I place my faith in you as well." After further contemplation, the thought of Hanzō as a solution to the shinobi nation crisis seemed more and more plausible to her. _Was Hanzō what the world needed? With some help, maybe so_. "You have every reason to be angry with me, but I would like to help you. You don't have to trust me, but I think that I can be of more use to you than I currently am."

"I was angry earlier," Hanzō placed a heavy paw on Shiori's head, "but I am also proud. Suna's rats, scared away by my little woman. They'll be the laughing stock of Sunagakure."

As Hanzō spoke, his physical contact made Shiori suddenly very aware of where they were. _Hanzō's bedroom must be only a few feet away_. "I'm relieved, but please don't take my offer lightly."

"We'll see," he responded absently, withdrawing his hand.

"What I also mean to imply," Shiori persisted, "is that I can show you _right now_."

Hanzō's eyes widened in understanding. Since the day he proposed, this conversation had been inevitable. Even so, he had not expected her to be the one to initiate it. _So, Shiori wanted to talk about sex, did she?_ "I must have impressed you _very_ much today for such an offer," he laughed lowly.

"The offer has stood for months now," his wife pouted. "To be honest, it's been a blow to my pride you haven't taken me up on it yet."

Her response surprised Hanzō. _Had she really wanted this from him?_ "Don't feel like you need to do this out of obligation. I'm not sure what will happen. You could be poisoned in any number of ways, which is why I've avoided the activity to date." And besides, _women had been too terrified to approach him for it to have been a problem_.

"I don't view it as an obligation at all," Shiori poured herself a saucer of sake from the table. "If I didn't want you, I wouldn't invite you to bed with me. But if you prefer to think of it that way, _you_ owe me an obligation as well." Lifting the saucer from the table, Shiori eyed the clear liquid. "You once told me this tasted like poison." Shiori sampled the saucer's contents as a grimace flashed across her face. "And you are correct. But if I can survive this foul beverage, I think I can survive anything. _Including you_."

A surge of excited flooded Hanzō's veins. Rising from the floor, he rummaged through a box on a nearby shelf before returning with a glass vial. "If that is your decision, then take this. It's an antidote to my poison in case you come in contact with it."  
Shiori swallowed the vial's contents obediently, only to grimace once again. " _This_ tastes even worse!" she spat, helping herself to another saucer of sake.

"Careful Shiori. Drinking at that rate, you'll pass out before we've started."

" _You underestimate your opponent, sir_ " Shiori lowered her register dramatically to create what must have been her best Hanzō impersonation.

"No more," Hanzō removed the saucer from Shiori's hands and returned it to the table. "I'm cutting you off."

"What a shame. It was starting to grow on me."

"Come," Hanzō instructed, taking Shiori's arm in his own. As Shiori walked with him the short distance to his bedroom, she found herself pleasantly relaxed in part thanks to the alcohol, but also due to her own excitement and relief. _He wanted her_.

"Are you ready?" Hanzō inquired, stopping before what must have been his bedroom screen.

"Almost," Shiori rummaged for her mask. Finding it in her pocket, she tied the strings firmly behind her head. "I would rather you not wear yours. I want to look at you Hanzō. You're very handsome."

Ignoring the compliment, Hanzō slid open the door to reveal a bare room, save for a tatami mat, flat pillow, and grey blanket. His kusarigama stood propped in the corner. _Evidently, Hanzō did not spend much time here_. After unhinging his mask and placing it on the ground, Hanzō next began to unzip his flack vest.

"No," Shiori protested, "let me help you with that."

"You're in a very _helpful_ mood today, Shiori." Nevertheless, Hanzō permitted his wife to remove his vest and push his undershirt up his chest as far as she could reach. As she did so, sensations from her unfamiliar soft touch traveled up his spine. Once Shiori reached her maximum height, Hanzō removed the garment and let it fall to the ground, only to then feel his breath catch as Shiori placed both hands on his hips, sliding her thumbs under his waistband. Hanzō suddenly felt alarmed at how quickly she was hijacking his senses. "Slow down. I can take it from here," he gasped, turning his attention to her robe.

If he thought that taking control would sober him, he soon realized he was dead wrong. As he struggled to untie the strings of Shiori's robe, his lack of dexterity frustrated him. _This_ was a form of drunkenness he'd never experienced.

As Hanzō untied Shiori's robe and parted it across her shoulders, the young woman's mind went numb. Though her face felt flushed, the coolness of the night air caressed her chest, causing the peaks of her breasts to harden. She shuddered at the sensation as the fabric of her robe brushed over her breasts and fell to the floor in a pool of dark silk. She was now wearing nothing but a fortunately ornate pair of lace panties.

" _Temptress_ ," the corners of Hanzō's mouth turned up in a satisfied smile. "You planned this."

Dazed, it took Shiori more than a moment to respond, "Not at all," Shiori shook her head with a breathless laugh, "don't flatter yourself."

"Then how do you explain this?" Hanzō wrapped his large hand around her torso and brushed the tips of her breasts with the rough pads of his thumbs. "I didn't think that real ladies walked around so underdressed."

Hanzō's touch shot an almost painful pressure to her core. Thinking was nearly impossible as she struggled to concentrate on his words. "I-I don't need to wear one," she gasped between ragged breaths. "It's not like- _OHH_ " Shiori's mind went blank to make way for waves of sensation as Hanzō crouched before her and took her nipple into his mouth. After swirling his tongue around Shiori's areola for several moments, he withdrew to the next.

"I always thought I preferred large breasts," Hanzō smiled, releasing Shiori's nipple despite her moan of protest, "but such easy access is a benefit I hadn't anticipated." Kneeling before her, Hanzō pulled Shiori's last remaining garment down her legs, leaving her completely bare before him. "Even better than I remembered," Hanzō admired, feasting on her body. "What were you trying to pull that day I unsealed you? Were you trying to seduce me even then?"

"Perhaps a little," a breathless laugh escaped Shiori. "But you never discussed it, so I thought you were completely unfazed."

"No man could be unfazed by _this_." Hanzō took Shiori's hands in his own and returned them to his waistband. Following his lead, Shiori guided his pants down his legs, letting gravity complete their dissent to the floor.

Hanzō's raw, masculine beautify had always taken Shiori's breath away, but in the nude, it was overpowering. His sculpted features, bulging muscles, and large erection were an artist's dream. She did not realize she had been holding her breath until she felt herself scooped off her feet and carried to Hanzō's tatami.

"Is it safe to assume you're unfamiliar with this procedure?" he asked, laying her gently on the ground.

"Aren't you as well?"

He laughed lowly, flashing a rare half smile. "Men are born knowing this procedure." Wasting no time, Hanzō proceeded to run his textured hands along the inside of Shiori's soft thighs. Entranced by his progress, Shiori watched closely until his hands caressed her core, causing her shut her eyes and gasp at the collision.

Excited and satisfied to find his wife already wet for him, Hanzō slid his middle finger slowly inside her. iGod, she was tight/i. "How is this?"

" _Good_ ," she responded, gasping for breath, "but a little painful."

Hanzō frowned. "I'm afraid this first time will be painful for you. Try to relax," he breathed against her neck. Kissing the length of her nape, Hanzō begin to move in and out of her while rotating his thumb lightly over her clitoris. Still concerned he may be harming her, Hanzō was relieved once Shiori's breathing became increasingly ragged and hips began to gyrate. " _Talk to me, Shiori_."

"Don't-don't stop," she moaned urgently, grabbing his hand and pushing him deeper inside her bucking hips. Aroused by her responsiveness, Hanzō quickened the pace until his wife began to tremor.

" _Hanzō, OHHH GOD_ ," she cried out in climax, body shaking in his arms.

As her breathing slowed, Hanzō slipped a second finger inside, causing Shiori to wince. "Does this still hurt?"

"Yes, but not nearly as much," she responded, cheeks rising in a smile beneath her mask. "But I assure you, the pleasure far outweighs the pain."

Despite her reassurance, Hanzō didn't budge. "Are you sure you still want to do this?"

"Yes," she smiled, raising her hand to caress his face, " _please_."

With that, Hanzō was lost. Releasing Shiori from his arms and laying her gently down on the mat, Hanzō positioned himself between Shiori's spread legs and pressed slowly into her entry. _God_ , he shuddered in pleasure. The tightness around him felt amazing. With herculean effort, he restrained himself from plunging into her too quickly. Though Shiori lay silent, he could tell she was in great pain from the tightness of her closed eyes and the way her fingers dug into his forearms. "Let me know when you are ready," he leaned over her, kissing her forehead.

After taking a few more moments to adjust, Shiori felt the terrible pain begin to subside. Even so, at first she was hesitant to continue. She feared any movement from him and the pain would begin anew. As it subsided further, she became aware of Hanzō's struggle not to further hurt her. _I want this for him_ , she realized, heart swelling in love. "I'm ready."

Above her, she heard her husband sigh in relief. Supporting his weight on both forearms and burying his face, now damp with perspiration, into her neck, he began to thrust slowly. Though still in pain, gradually Shiori felt a wave of pleasure began to grow and outpace her discomfort. Almost involuntarily, she wrapped her arm around her husband's back and ran her fingers through his flaxen locks. " _Hanzō_." As Hanzō intensified the rhythm, Shiori's wave of pleasure peaked, sending her over the edge into a second climax. Not far behind, Hanzō groaned and stilled as he came inside her.

For a minute, the two regarded each other, silent save for the unison of their heavy breathing. To Shiori, Hanzō almost looked confused, as if trying to solve a puzzle in his mind. Running his hand through her hair and dropping low to kiss her forehead once more, Hanzō withdrew and lay beside her. Rolling over on his back, Hanzō encircled Shiori with his arms and held her to him. "Are you alright?"

"That's an understatement," Shiori laughed lightly while lifting her hand to caress his chest. "Oh! But Hanzō," she lifted herself in realization.

Following her line of attention, Hanzō glanced down and noticed the dark stain beginning to spread across the bed. "I'll get a new blanket, and a drink," he said, rising.

"Leave the latter to me," Shiori joined, sliding open the screened door and disappearing into his chamber. Discarding the blanket in the corner and replacing it by the time Shiori returned, he watched her perform the same sake ritual they'd shared every night for the past few months. _Only this time, she was naked_.

"You seem very comfortable in your own skin."

"I have nothing to be ashamed of," she handed the saucer to Hanzō.

" _Agreed_ ," he sipped, placed the saucer on the floor, and pulled the woman into his lap.

"And besides, I've been dressed by others my entire life. My body isn't a secret to anyone."

" _WHAT_ ," he shouted in rising fury.

"The job is currently vacant, if you're interested," she consoled, wrapping an arm around his neck.

"Covering your body in clothes goes against everything I believe in."

"Such strong convictions!" she laughed resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes as though ready to doze.

"Stay awake, Shiori," Hanzō shook her slightly. "If you've been poisoned, we may not know for another half hour."

"Mmm, dying in my sleep would ruin a perfect evening." Shiori freed herself from Hanzō's arms to look her husband in the eyes. Judging from his half-closed eyes, _he had to be exhausted as well_. "If I have to stay awake, you have to stay awake with me."

Rather than respond, Hanzō exhaled defiantly.

"Put this back on," she instructed, handing Hanzō his discarded mask.

"Should I even ask why?"

"Because," she purred, pausing before finishing the sentence to run a line of kisses from his chest before stopping at his abdomen, "I'm going to help keep you awake."

"Oh," Hanzō's eyes widened again in understanding, " _I'm awake_."

* * *

When Hanzō awoke at his conditioned hour the next morning, he was both alarmed and pleased to see the sleeping woman across from him. After quickly tying the laces of his uniform, he slid the screen door of his bedroom open quietly, only to be arrested by a drowsy moan of protest. "Don't move," he turned to look his half-awake wife in the eyes before disappearing out the room.

Downstairs Hanzō was pleased to find himself only a few minutes late to his officer meeting. "Kanzo," he addressed the senior officer, "you are in charge of my platoon this morning. I will join you later this afternoon."

While the other officer's eyes grew wide in surprise at the unusual order, Kanzo only smiled in understanding. "Very well. I will see you this afternoon, _maybe_."

Relieved of his most pressing duties, Hanzō returned to his room to find his wife in the same mussed and unclothed state he'd left her and began to unlace his uniform.

" _Now, where were we?_ "


	17. Chapter 17

A summons before the Hokage _and_ the Fire Daimyo meant one of two things: Danzō was either about to be assigned an important S-Rank mission, or he was in S-Rank trouble. Weighing each option in his mind, Danzō decided that neither would surprise him. What did surprise him, however, was finding that Hiruzen had evidently also been summoned. _Well, at least this means I'm not in trouble_ , Danzō thought bitterly. To the Second, it seemed the Sarutobi prodigy could do no wrong. "Hiruzen, any idea what this is all about?"

"None," the other shinobi shook his head. "I was going to ask you the same."

At that moment, two servants from within the Daimyō's conference room swung the double doors wide. The sight that greeted the two shinobi caused them both to stiffen in shock. In addition to the Hokage and Fire Daimyo, a large assembly of Konoha elders and Land of Fire business leaders' eyes bore down upon them. Dread coursed through Danzō. _This was no S-Rank assignment_. An assembly like this could only mean one thing: _it was time to select the next Hokage_.

The aged Hokage rose to speak first. "Hiruzen, Danzō. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark, but many months ago I decided it was past time that I handed the Hokage title to one of you."

"After much deliberation," Ayame interjected, "we've concluded to appoint Hiruzen Sarutobi as Konoha's Third Hokage."

"With the understanding," Tobirama continued, "that you will work closely with Danzō. The decision was a tough one. You are both exceptional candidates. Therefore, Danzō-"

Danzō gritted his teeth. _Here it comes_.

"We've decided to grant your Root experiment official approval on a trial basis."

 _My consolation prize_.

"Use this power and responsibility to assist the new Hokage."

"Yes. Assist the Hokage," Danzō repeated impassively. "Thank you, my Lord, and congratulations Hiruzen." After a stiff bow, Danzō exited the room before the reverberating _congratulations Hirzuen_ could reach his ears.

Outside, Danzō contemplated the magnitude of his loss. Every move he'd made for the past 20 years had been to position him for this day. Losing the race felt as though he'd lost part of himself. _He couldn't let this go so easily_. Changing his direction, Danzō stormed towards the Daimyō's private office. Half an hour later, the Daimyō arrived and upon seeing Danzō, sat down with a heavy exhale. "I know you're disappointed, Danzō, but I will not apologize for my decision."

"Hiruzen and I are equals. And you and I have worked towards this arrangement for years. With me in charge of the Leaf, you'd have access to secret intelligence, manpower, everything. What changed?"

"Are you and Hiruzen truly equals?" Ayame asked, clasping his hands and relaxing into his chair. "Several months ago, I remember hiring you and your organization to take care of a defenseless teenage girl. Your men were wiped out, and Shiori escaped."

Blood drained from Danzō's face.

"I do believe that you and Hiruzen are near equals in ability. Therefore I have a hard time accepting that Shiori simply 'got away.' You let her go for reasons you hide from me. _That_ is why I could not defend you today."

 _Shiori_. Of all his schemes, that one had backfired the most spectacularly. Shiori was worse than dead in the enemy's hands, and his relationship with the Daimyō destroyed. Had it not been for that incident, Danzō would still have the Daimyō's support, and possibly the title of Hokage. _Damn her_.

"My lord," he choked, mouth suddenly dry, "forgive me for my failure to be transparent with you. But you can trust me when I say that all I've done is for the good of the Land of Fire."

Ayame looked unmoved. "I can't trust that, for your opinion of what's good for the Land of Fire appears to deviate from my own. I have no more to say to you. We're done here."

 _They were done_ , Danzō realized. And now, _he needed to find new friends._

* * *

Danzō could have walked back to Root headquarters blindfolded, but for the first time in his life he felt truly lost. He couldn't let the setback rattle him.

 _Or the jealousy_. In less than 24 hours, the streets would be packed in celebration. Just the premonition of their cheers was enough to make his head explode. Deep down, a part of him had always expected the title to pass to Hiruzen. The village liked to fool themselves into thinking that subversive measures were never necessary, and Hiruzen's wide-eyed innocence embodied this ideal. _THE FOOLS!_ Danzō threw a saucer on his desk against the floor, shattering it to pieces.

With his end goal no longer an option, he had needed to rethink things. _And fast_. After all, Hokages didn't live forever, and if something were to happen to Hiruzen, he needed to be next in line. In the meantime, he would need to distinguish himself.

Danzō circled the room in feverish thought. First, without Ayame, he needed new support. They would have to be young and unaware his past failures. Or, he paused in front of a world map mounted upon the room's wall, _they needed to come from the outside_. Danzō tore the map from the wall and pinned it onto the room's center table. _Konoha didn't have many allies these days_ , Danzō realized, studying the map. Konoha's only ally of note was Kirigakure, and even that alliance was crumbling. The only thing holding it together was the old Mizukage Gengetsu Hōzuki's fondness for the late Fire Daimyo. Still, rekindling that friendship between Kirigakure and Konoha was Danzō's best bet.

 _But what did he have that he could possibly offer the Mizukage?_ Danzō pulled out an intelligence scroll from the bookshelf. After scanning the document for some time, Danzō concluded the only thing the crazy old man seemed to want was the head of his rival, Mū the Tsuchikage, on a silver platter.

 _No_ . . . that wasn't it. Gengetsu needed to defeat Mū, his rival, by himself. Danzō understood this aspect of rivalry all too well. If he wanted to defeat his own rival, Hiruzen, it was only fitting that he'd start by helping Gengetsu defeat his own.

Danzō retrieved the intelligence his Root team had gathered on Mū the Tsuchikage. _"_ _Mū is able to split himself into two duplicates to help escape a lethal blow, but at the cost of reducing his power by half_ ," Danzō read. _Impressive_. But even with this technique, he was still equally matched to Gengetsu. _But if Mū ever discovered a way to strengthen his clones, the Mizukage would be disadvantaged and no longer an equal match_. Danzō could frighten Gengetsu, make him believe that Mu had discovered a new technique that would compensate for his jutsu's weakness . . . _something forbidden_.

Pushing aside all the scrolls, books, dishes, and kunai from the table, Danzō spread all the scrolls his men had gathered on the shinobi world's known and legendary secret techniques. The entries for most were short or non-existent. For most, all that was recorded was a name. _Curse Mandala, Earth Grudge Fear, Rock Hive . . ._ Danzō read on, discouraged that he likely had no more information than the Mizukage himself, until a comparatively lengthy entry caught his eye. _"_ _Forbidden Art: Energy Extraction. The wielder of this jutsu can gain temporary, immense chakra at the cost of severe environmental and physical damage."_ This would do, Danzō decided. A temporary chakra boost was all Mū needed to strengthen his clones long enough to overpower the Mizukage. _Now, where was it?_ Danzō scanned to the bottom of the entry to find the technique's location.

 _Amegakure_.

Danzō should not have been surprised. Before Hanzō, the country had been easy to invade and gather intelligence. After the Shiori incident, contemplating Amegakure was unpleasant, but Danzō could not shake the feeling that this plan was fated. The plan unfolded in his mind as clear as if he were watching it on stage. First, he would bait Mū to Amegakure with the knowledge of the forbidden technique. Once Mu took the bait, he would personally alert the Mizukage that Mū had formed an alliance with Hanzō and that the two were conspiring to attack him. Gengetsu would also travel to Amegakure to prevent the non-existing transaction and would likely engage both Mū and Hanzō, if Hanzō survived his first encounter with Mū. Mū would likely be weakened enough by Hanzō to be defeated by the Mizukage. If anything went wrong, he would accompany Gengetsu in disguise if assistance was needed. And with any luck, Hanzō would not make it out alive, and the country would revert to its prior state of anarchy.

 _Which left Shiori free to return to Konoha_. By protecting her and escorting her safely back to the village, he could use her testimony against Ayame as blackmail if he ever needed to. Danzō felt suddenly vindicated that his decision to spare her had not been for naught. _No, he was far from done with Shiori._

Returning all scrolls to their shelves, Danzō departed to prepare his show for the road.


	18. Chapter 18

While Hanzō's displeasure with Shiori's behavior during the Suna incident quickly subsided, the citizens of Amegakure were much slower to forget. In the following weeks, throngs approached her to retell the story. Not long after, storytelling transformed into deeper conversations, and for the first time Shiori felt like she was starting to belong.

With Rika still in the hospital, an assortment of other servants and officers accompanied and trained Shiori, and on rare occasions, Hanzō would take breaks from his responsibilities to observe and assist her progress himself. Sometimes he would even permit her to view him train with his officers. The few chances Shiori had to observe her husband in action were the most precious. Though he remained secretive about most of his affairs, he was gradually opening the door to his world to her. And for the past few weeks that world had seemed like a peaceful one. However, Shiori knew it was only a matter of time before the next conflict consumed his attention.

And judging from the amount of commotion entering and exiting their household all day, _that time had come_.

Their morning had started peacefully enough with Hanzō allowing Shiori to accompany him to inspect the security of the city's waterfront, but when a team of messengers arrived and pulled him aside, they headed back to headquarters immediately. Ever since, Hanzō had remained locked up in his conference room with his closest council. While Shiori attempted to busy herself with architectural reports and her own projects, the length of Hanzō's meeting began to concern her. It was unlike him to remain cooped up inside all day. Recalling her embarrassment last time she barged into a confidential meeting and careful to respect his privacy, Shiori waited for Hanzō to bring the story to her once he was through.

Her patience was rewarded late that evening by her husband's stormy entrance. A cold draft followed his entrance, and his bad mood condensed around him like the rain clouds clung to the buildings outside. Wordlessly, he removed his mask, vest, and cloak and angrily dumped them in a heap on a chair. "You're troubled," Shiori knelt before their sitting room table to pour a saucer of sake. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"The Mizukage is coming," he pulled a scroll from a bookshelf before joining her at the table and accepting the small saucer.

"Mizukage Gengetsu?" Shiori's smiled in pleasant surprise, "He's coming to Amegakure? That's exciting news!"

" _Humph,"_ Hanzō huffed irritably, taking a swig. "I wish I could share your enthusiasm. The daimyō and the kage they have on leash are nothing but trouble. The great shinobi nations always are." In a rare and unexpected sharing of confidence, Hanzō pulled a folded letter from his pocket and slid it to Shiori across the table. Glancing at its contents, she understood why he had no qualms sharing.

 _Greetings Sanshōuo no Hanzō,_

 _Expect my arrival in your village four days from the receipt of this letter._

 _Until then,_  
 _Gengetsu_

The message conveyed so little, showing it to her could do no harm. "Is there more?"

"That is all; a simple declaration of intent to trespass. Illuminate me, Shiori, what is it about your five great nations that makes them think they can wander through here anytime they please?"

Shiori ignored the angry question. He was lashing out at her, but she reminded herself it wasn't personal. The Mizukage's actions were a clear slight towards Hanzō's control of the region. Hanzō was justifiably upset. Even Shiori didn't like the Mizukage's clear underestimation of her husband even though she liked the kage himself. But Gengetsu was old now, probably underestimated anyone younger than himself, and in his old age was likely adamant to receive everything he wanted. Now there was a question. "What do you think he wants?"

"For us to sit and fearfully speculate until he arrives. It's a power ploy to keep us nervous and in the dark about his intentions."

An image of an evil Gengetsu, hovering over a map of Amegakure stroking his ridiculous, thin goatee popped in Shiori's mind. "Perhaps," she coughed between laughs, "I know kage have to be somewhat two-faced, polite to some and ruthless to others, but don't allow this one sentence to form your first impression of the Mizukage. He's not what you'd expect from a kage. He's . . . an eccentric. The brevity of this note could mean anything. Please give him the benefit of the doubt."

"You know him?"

"Yes. He was a friend of my father, so I've met him on several occasions. The bond between Konoha and Kirigakure used to be quite strong. Years ago, Konoha sold a bijū to Kirigakure to cement an alliance and create a balance of power. The wars are straining this alliance, but the Mizukage always remained kind to my family."

"I don't suppose you've ever seen him fight then," Hanzō scanned through his scroll, evidently trying to learn all he could about the man.

"Fight? No. But I know his favorite brand of tea. That he prefers 2,000 thread count sheets. That he smokes every evening at 8:00. And, personality-wise, that he greatly admires leaders that look after their people. I know this man and I can speak his language. Don't you see, his coming here is a golden opportunity for us! Once he learns more about you first hand and sees all you've done for Amegakure, he's bound to respect you. If you just borrow a little of my sophistication, you could even make him like and support you. His recognition could further legitimize you here and abroad."

"I will not pander to anyone, friend or foe."

"Of course not," Shiori rose and wrapped her arms around the stubborn man's shoulders. "That is what wives are for. Before you rush in with your army of shinobi and salamanders, let me have the Mizukage first. I'll sing your praises and show off everything you've done. Explain to him how your bringing stability to this region is in his best interests. I can sell the idea of you to him."

Hanzō shook his head. "Amegakure cannot afford to be unprepared for an invasion."

"Such a welcome will only affirm every kage and daimyō's fear that you're a peasant military dictator."

"I don't need the five nation's affirmation. I will rise above their delicate, two-faced diplomacy."

"Yes, but when the time is right. For now, their support can do nothing but help you as you finish uniting Amegakure first. Please place your faith in me. Soft politics are my profession."

Hanzō considered silently for a moment. "Fine, but Amegakure will be prepared for an attack."

"Of course," Shiori smiled victoriously, nuzzling her husband's nose in place of a kiss. "You make your preparations and I'll make mine."

"Why do I feel like this undertaking of yours is going to cost me a fortune?"

"Because as your wife, spending your money is my other profession."


	19. Chapter 19

Standing atop Amegakure's high towers always unnerved Shiori. Before coming to the Hidden Rain Village, she'd rarely ever climbed past three stories. To see ant-sized people coming and going below her window every morning made her feel more than a little faint. But despite the discomfort, she had to admit height had its advantages. Like the ability to spot the Mizukage's coif from a mile away. _Not that you needed to be a mile away to spot that tall thing_. Issuing final orders to her two squads of shinobi in dress uniform, Shiori ventured downstairs to greet the Mizukage.

Once the kage was close enough to be visible at ground level, Shiori lost what little hope she had that this visit would be a friendly one. A tight smile replaced the man's typical carefree demeanor, and the stony, unreadable expressions of his four shinobi escorts betrayed no excitement to be there. _Only four escorts?_ That struck Shiori as strange. She never thought he would bring an army, but four was far fewer than he ever brought with him to Konoha. _Didn't shinobi squads always come in threes? Perhaps he had more stationed outside the city._

Silencing the alarm bells in her head, Shiori flashed a welcoming and innocent smile. "Lord Mizukage!" she bowed and took both his hands in hers warmly. "I can't tell you how excited I am to see you. Welcome to Amegakure."

"Can it be little Shiori all grown up? OH DAMN I'M OLD. And," he bent his knees to match the young woman's height and whisper in her ear, "I hear I'm supposed to . . . _congratulate_ you on your marriage?" A worried expression crossed his features, suggesting the kage was not convinced this arrangement was in Shiori's best interest.

Shiori softened at the Mizukage's concern. " _YES,_ " she insisted, "you _should_ congratulate me, and you'll soon understand why once you meet the husband in question."

"I'm relieved to hear it. Now," he straightened to survey Shiori's shinobi guards before crouching again to her ear. "Which one is he?"

"I'm afraid my lord is unable to join us until later this evening. A distress signal called him away to a nearby village early this morning, but I've since heard it was a false alarm. Once he finishes his business there, he should be able to join us for dinner."

"I'm afraid I can't wait," he frowned. "I will need to see him immediately."

"But you've only just arrived. Anyone would be exhausted after your journey. Visit with me first instead," she coaxed, looping her arm through his. "Besides, it would probably be evening by the time you found him. The man is _always_ on the move. Come inside and rest, and let me show you what we've been working on."

Fatigued, soaked, and no doubt lured by the prospect of snooping around Hanzō's headquarters, Gengetsu reluctantly accepted. "Very well, but I demand to see him as soon as he returns to the city."

"Of course, my lord. Now come see!" Guiding him upstairs, Shiori led the kage to Hanzō's conference room carefully staged with scrolls, blue prints, and models.

"Don't tell me Hanzō's building you a new, _larger_ house," the Mizukage's eyes landed on one of the wooden models. "If you add any more flights of stairs, I won't have the stamina to climb them all to see you!"

"This?" Shiori asked, stroking the model's roof fondly. "It is a home, but not for me. This is our current orphanage project. Amegakure's civil war has driven countless children to the city streets."

"An orphanage? More like a mansion. It looks like you're planning to install state of the art everything." Gengetsu leafed through the model's accompanying blueprints. "Your Hanzō isn't sparing any expense."

"He is frugal whenever he can be so he can be generous when he needs to be."

"Still, the funds to run infrastructure like this doesn't come easy. He wouldn't happen to have any . . . _foreign investors_ to your knowledge, would he?"

"Foreign investors?" Shiori repeated curiously, sensing a deeper meaning behind his innocent question. "Quite the opposite, actually. This nation is a stomping ground for nations like Suna and Konoha. Amegakure is the only thing that stands in their and every other nation's way from destroying each other. Our hope is that with a strong Amegakure, the great nations will find war with one another no longer worthwhile with the added expense of passing through here. And _hopefully_ with peace between Konoha and Suna, Konoha can return its attentions to aiding allies like Kirigakure."

"Hmmm . . . an interesting theory. And what are all these?" he asked, lifting a stack of papers in each hand. "Tax proposals? Law drafts?"

"Yes and yes. And we'd like _your_ opinion on both. After leading Kirigakure for so long, you've no doubt much advice on these things."

"So Hanzō thinks he's won the civil war already. Don't you think it's a little premature to go about installing a central government?"

"Not at all," Shiori shook her head. "What you hold in your hands is one of Hanzō's greatest weapons – a plan for peace and stability. This war is about winning people's hearts as well as their property. Hanzō's allies are driven to him not only because he can fight, but also because he has a plan for once the fighting is over."

" _He_ has a plan? Or do _you_? It sounds like you've had a heavy hand in these."

"Perhaps a _little_ ," Shiori conceded.

"You've really embraced this place as your own, haven't you?"

"I have. Amegakure's an _acquired_ taste . . . much like sake," Shiori smiled, thinking of her husband. _And much like Hanzō himself._ "But after an afternoon and evening in our company, I've no doubts you'll acquire it as I have."

"I don't know about that," the Mizukage walked towards the floor to ceiling length window to peer out the city below. "It's not much to look at."

"I disagree. Amegakure's a _garden_ of opportunity. And you've arrived just in time to witness us bloom."

* * *

At the appointed hour, Hanzō entered his compound through its discreet side entrance. Shiori was already waiting.

"Perfect timing," she smiled, ushering him inside. "The dinner is almost finished, and I doubt the Mizukage will want to discuss his business with you this evening."

"And do we have any idea what that business might be?"

"He has not stated his business explicitly, but he did hint that he suspects you of receiving some foreign support. Evidently, he feels it concerns him somehow. Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

Hanzō shook his head. "None. If that is what he's thinking, someone's feeding him false information. Perhaps we'll know more when I hear what the men I placed to observe his three escorts have to say."

"Three escorts? There were four when he arrived."

"Then he must also have a sleuth. We will track him down before long. Good work, Shiori," he patted her head affectionately. "I'm pleased I allowed you to do this. Tomorrow I'll lure him out of the city to hear what he has to say and engage him away from the village if I have to."

"I hope that won't be the case. I believe the Mizukage has a more favorable view towards you now. Meeting you in person will only strengthen that. But before we go up, there's _one more thing_ I should tell you."

"Which is?"

"I invited your parents to dinner."

Hanzō's eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. "Why on earth would you invite them to a dinner with a kage?!" Hanzō wanted his first meeting with the Mizukage to be absent all distractions. The last thing he needed was the additional hassle of conversing with his parents.

" _Because you're a filial son with strong family values and a traditional upbringing_. Also, your father and the Mizukage are contemporaries. I thought they'd have a few things in common."

"I take back everything I said. Letting you do this was a terrible decision."

"I'm afraid words don't work that way, dear. Let's go. And _relax_. Everyone's getting along famously."

 _Famously_ wasn't an understatement. Hanzō could hear the merry group long before entering the dining room. When he and his wife at last arrived, his worse fears were realized. At the center of the table sat his father with an arm wrapped around the shoulder of a man who must be the Mizukage. Faces flushed after hours of drinking, the two gentlemen didn't notice Hanzō and Shiori's entry over their cacophonous drinking song.

 _"_ _I wish I had a barrel of rice at water, three hundred pound,  
I'd put it in a bonshō bell and stir it 'round and 'round,  
Let every honest fellow drink his glass of hearty cheer,  
For we all might die tomorrow, but tonight we'll have no fear!"_

Hanzō gaped at the interlopers with thinly veiled fury. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his mother also watching the spectacle with lips pursed in prim disapproval. _Finally we agree on something._

"A-hem," Shiori cleared her throat to silence the men, "Lord Mizukage, please allow me to introduce my husband, Sanshōuo no Hanzō." Instantly, the Mizukage sobered and scanned Hanzō with a critical eye and mischievous, half smile. "Hanzō, this is Mikugake Hōzuki Gengetsu."

"I see you've made already made yourself at home in _my_ city."

"I have, thanks to the excellent hospitality of your wife. She's given me quite the tour of your compound here. I hope tomorrow you can pick up where she left off and show me around your city here."

"I have no time to guide tours. You may accompany me, but I cannot afford to deviate from my routine."

"Of course," Gengetsu face stretched into a cryptic smile, "Shiori and your delightful parents assure me you are very _busy_. I look forward to discovering what you've been up to."

* * *

Even before sliding the panel to his dark room, Gengetsu knew the room was not vacant.

"What have you learned?" Gengetsu asked, entering the room and lighting only a small lantern. The lantern cast a glow across the hunter shinobi mask that obscured the features of the mysterious Konohagakure informant.

"My sources inform me that tomorrow Hanzō plans to rendezvous with Mū outside the city. This could be a trap for you, Lord Mizukage, if he successfully passes the scroll to the Tsuchikage. I will go with you to assist you if necessary."

"Whatever happens, don't let that mummy get his hands on the scroll. And I have another job for you. Hanzō's wife, Shiori, is a native of your village. Escort her back to the Leaf when we're through."

"Of course," the shinobi bowed. "Anything else tonight?"

"Yes. Your name. You said I could have it once we reached Amegakure."

"Tomorrow," the masked shinobi promised, "after we've won the day."

* * *

The next morning, Hanzō and a small platoon of shinobi had just reached the city gates before a familiar voice called out to them.

"OH YOO-HOO" the Mizukage belted, "AREN'T YOU FORGETTING SOMETHING? OR RATHER, SOMEONE?!"

Hanzō turned to see the man himself, mouth turned into a tight smile and mustache twitching in annoyance. At his side, Hanzō counted four escorts. _So the sleuth had returned._ "I told you I could not afford to deviate from my routine. Keep up, or stay behind."

"Hmph, you have a lot of pluck to speak to _me_ in that tone."

"And you have a lot of pluck to enter this territory without _my_ permission."

"Fair enough," the kage shrugged. "Lead on."

As the company traveled deeper into the countryside, Hanzō grew increasingly annoyed at the Mizukage's questions and riddles. "Mizukage, I refuse to believe you came all this way to interrogate me about my village. Why don't you tell me why you're really here?"

"Ah! But that's just it, you see! I'm not sure yet! Only _you_ can answer that."

"My apologies for interrupting, sirs," one of Hanzō's sensor shinobi interjected, "but I'm detecting something with incredible chakra coming this way quickly."

"HE'S HERE!" Gengetsu clenched his fists excitedly.

"Who?!" Hanzō's brows furrowed in alarm. "What do you know old man?"

"Nothing that you don't already, isn't that right, Sanshōuo no Hanzō?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** I just wanted to quickly thank you all for all your kind comments and feedback! To my knowledge, won't let me respond to anon comments (can you do this?) but I read them and treasure them! Also, for this chapter I wanted to explain that Rika suffers from a form of PTSD called Deperonalization Disorder. People who experience this often feel like they're in a dream or watching themselves in a movie. Also, if you want visuals for any of the characters, read more about them, or see the illustrations that accompany the story, you can visit my DA account. Thank you again!

* * *

Rika awoke to find herself face to face with an army of painted, wooden dolls. Had she not created them herself, carved them from wood and painted their faces and clothes, she would have thought herself one of them. She recognized their faces: her mother, her childhood friends, Kanzo, and the newest edition, Shiori. _But were those memories really hers?_ She felt as though she were separate from that girl, but trapped inside and looking through her eyes.

Distantly, Rika could hear soft footsteps sounding in the hallway. The footsteps become louder. A door opened and closed.

"How are we today, Rika? Here, let me help you sit up. You need to drink this." The staring dolls disappeared behind a cup of brown liquid. "The Mizukage's in town today. He's . . . quite the sight. If you start to feel better, you should come take a look. I'm considering growing a mustache just like his. That's a good girl. I'm going to lay you down again now."

The dolls reappeared. "It looks like I'll be busy all day, so I'll have someone check in on you in a few hours."

A door opened and closed again. Footsteps in the hallway grew softer and softer. _Had Kanzo just been here? Or was it all just a dream?_

* * *

Apprehensive and unable to concentrate on any productive work, Shiori ventured from her office downstairs to the long-vacant practice room. _Perhaps meditation would take her mind off the worst-case scenarios between Hanzo and the Mizukage that played out in her head_. Hanzo seemed confident enough that he could win, and Shiori had faith that he could, but _at what cost?_ Could he clash with a kage and make it out unscathed? Sitting with legs crossed on the floor, Shiori attempted to empty her mind as Rika had taught her to do. Thoughts of Rika only shifted Shiori's concerns from one person to another. _How long had Rika been ill now? Nearly three months?_ Shiori had attempted to visit her in the hospital after the battle only to learn that she'd been discharged. _If she ever saw Kanzo again, she'd insist he let her visit._

As if conjured by her thoughts, Kanzo's profile swept past the open door as he proceeded down the hallway. "WAIT!" Shiori shouted after him, scrambling to her feet and sprinting to the hallway. "Wait!"

"Good morning, Lady Shiori," he said, turning to face her. "I'm afraid I have a pressing matter and can't be delayed."

"I understand, but may I walk with you?"

"Of course."

By the time Shiori had fetched her sandals and caught up with Kanzo, he had already made it two blocks from the compound. "I so rarely see you these days, I couldn't miss this opportunity to speak with you."

"Ah, yes. You will never see much of me in the city. My sensor abilities are the least clouded in the suburbs and countryside, so I prefer to be stationed there."

"Have you had Rika with you this whole time as well? I haven't seen her since . . . our incident. When I attempted to visit her at the hospital, I learned she had been discharged. I have not heard from her since. If possible, I would love to visit her. I am very troubled by her absence. It's been nearly three months! Her injuries must be _very_ grave."

"Don't worry yourself about Rika. She healed from the poisoning some time ago. Right now, she's experiencing one of her 'episodes.' Something that happened during the battle must have triggered her. It's not the first time this has happened, though this episode _is_ unusually long. She'll snap out of it in time."

Shiori's heart throbbed painfully at the memory of the cruel slap which no doubt landed Rika in her current state. "I'm afraid the fault is all mine for this. Please forgive me, Kanzo. And I'd like to ask her personally for her forgiveness as soon as–"

Suddenly, Kanzo silenced Shiori with the wave of his arm as he strained to hear an incoming message from his earpiece. The serious expression which shadowed the shinobi's features informed Shiori that her fears had likely been realized. _So there's going to be a fight after all._

"I'm sorry, my lady, but an enormous chakra has appeared outside the city, and I must leave immediately. I must order you to return to headquarters and stay inside. The streets may not be safe for you to travel alone, so I will send my summon to escort you. _Kuchiyose no Jutsu!_ " Kanzo shouted, waving hand signals in a flurry of motions.

Shiori shielded her face in alarm as dark, billowing clouds filled the streets. Oil-black wings pierced the cloud and stretched toward the sky, swallowing up the rare Amegakure sunlight and casting all pedestrians on the ground into darkness. _What on earth was this creature!?_ Suddenly, a blood-curdling screech and revolting odor overwhelmed her senses. The clouds did not even need to fully clear for Shiori to guess what they concealed: _an enormous condor._

" _FALL_ to your _KNEES_ mortal and answer why you have summoned _THE GREAT ONMORAKI_ ," its shrill voice squawked. Shiori gaped in disgust at the now fully visible creature. Its fleshy, wrinkled head was bald, save only for a tuft of greasy black feathers above its sinister beak. A ring of blood red plumage circled its bent neck, and every movement it made created a new wave of stench.

"Onmoraki," Kanzo said ignoring the bird's instructions, "I need you to transport Lady Shiori back to headquarters. It is unsafe for her to travel alone at present."

" _Transport?_ " Shiori asked terrified by both the prospect of flying and touching the smelly bird. "I assure you, it's alright Mr. Buzzard. We are not far from home, and I can manage the distance by myself."

" _BUZZARD?!_ ," the monster shrieked angrily, "FOOLISH HUMAN. I am a _PHOENIX_. BEHOLD my CRIMSON PLUMAGE of IMMORTALITY."

"I can't be detained any longer," Kanzo interrupted. "You'll have to sort it out between yourselves." And with a wave of a few more hand signs, Kanzo vanished in his own cloud of smoke leaving Shiori all alone with Onmoraki.

"VERY WELL. Climb atop my back, human," the bird ordered, extending its wing to Shiori's feet.

"No-no thank you," she declined, skin crawling in revulsion at their proximity. "I am terrified of heights. And it would be insulting for a human to ride a powerful, immortal phoenix like yourself."

"Your HUMILITY pleases me. And be not afraid, your conveyance will be sure and steadfast."

Shiori racked her brain in vain for an excuse to refuse when suddenly an explosion from above distracted their attentions. Onmoraki quickly spread his wing over Shiori to shield her from the falling debris. Anxious to see what was happening, Shiori ducked from under Onmoraki's wing just in time to see what appeared to be a man emerge from the fiery smoke, _floating in midair_ on a small cloud.

"Onmoraki, what on earth is _that?!_ " During the course of her small exposure to ninjutsu, Shiori had seen many strange things. But _flying_ was not one of them.

"It appears to be a ROBBERY at the archives."

"The archives? What could they be looking for there?"

"One of the village's SECRET TECHNIQUES, I suspect. Now, climb aboard," he insisted. "Kanzo was CORRECT. It is not safe for you to travel alone at this time."

"Shouldn't you go after the thief instead? You're the only one who can fly! With Hanzo, the Mizukage, and Kanzo away from the city, there's no one else to retrieve whatever he's stolen!"

"My HONOR depends on your safe return."

Shiori glanced up again at the man floating in the sky. By now, shinobi were trying to attack him with projectiles from nearby windows. Instead of retreat, the floating shinobi simply dodged their attacks and taunted his attackers with what appeared to be a scroll. _There isn't much time. I doubt he'll stick around for much longer._

"Very well," Shiori acquiesced, "I will allow you to take me home, but only if we make a detour on the way."

"You cannot trick ME, human, with loopholes!"

"What's wrong with it? Kanzo ordered you to take me home, but he didn't specify the route. Let's capture the thief together! A mighty phoenix like you couldn't possibly be _afraid_ of a single shinobi."

"Quite right human! The GREAT ONMORAKI knows NO FEAR. Onwards! I will apprehend the thief!"

Holding her breath as she scrabbled aboard the bird, Shiori kept a close eye on the shinobi above. As she suspected, he soon took off at a slow pace, rolling in laughter while taunting his pursuers on the ground. "Perhaps if you fly above him and follow from behind, he won't notice immediately. He seems distracted by his pursuers."

"His HUBRIS shall be his DOWNFALL. And now, human, WE ASCEND!" A sudden feeling of weightlessness caused Shiori to forget her aversion and grab hold of Onmoraki's neck. Powerful wings on either side of her flapped quickly, sending gusts of cold air into her face. She could sense they were rising high above Amegakure's towers though her eyes instinctively glued shut in terror.

"We are now far above the aerial human. He is heading towards the lake. I await your further instruction."

Shiori raised one eyelid just enough to spot the dot of the shinobi thief below. _Now came the hard part. How could they catch him?_ "Stay behind! Make sure your shadow never passes over him."

"You will need to think of something better than that; he could detect us at any moment." In fact, Shiori _had_ thought of something, but it was the last thing she'd ever want to do. "QUICKLY human!"

"Alright!" she resolved, setting fear aside, "fly into the sun! And listen closely!" Shiori explained her plan as Onmoraki flew into position. "Is that clear?"

"YES, human," he squawked.

"And you're sure you can catch me?"

"I can do ANYTHING."

"If we pull this off, I'll believe it. Now steady . . ." The two waited patiently for the shinobi to reach the lake. As soon as a small shadow appeared on the blue water's surface, Shiori tapped Onmoraki. "I'm letting go now – good luck!" Leaping from the bird's back, Shiori ignored the water below her and focused solely on Onmoraki as he swooped to strike the thief with dizzying speed. Catching wind of the strike just in time, the shinobi rose his arms to defend himself. Just after, Onmoraki's wings spread, blocking the conflict below. _Now hold him there for me!_

With Onmoraki detaining the shinobi at a constant elevation, Shiori soon caught up. Sensing her presence, Onmoraki released the shinobi from his talons and distanced himself from Shiori's path just in time for her to collide with the shinobi's cloud. Now at eye level with the shinobi, Shiori could now make out his features and voice. He was short, with big round eyes and a cratered nose that swallowed up his face. His forehead protector marked him as an Iwagakure shinobi, yet strapped to his side was a scroll bearing an Amegakure insignia.

"WHAT THE–" the shinobi cried, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

"Taking back what belongs to ME!" she shouted, reaching for the scroll.

"Not with a pathetic move like that!" Giving her a forceful push that shoved her to the edge of the cloud, the shinobi created enough distance to raise his arms and prepare an attack. "You must be an idiot to attack me! Do you even know who I am!? I am the future Tsuchikage, feared as Iwagakure's Ōnoki of Both Scales! Now prepared to be blasted to pieces! _Dust Rel–_ "

Returning just in time before the shinobi named Ōnoki could complete his technique, Onmoraki swooped once more. Extending his talons with a fierce shriek, the condor severed the leather strap securing the scroll, causing it to plummet to the ground. Unfortunately, Shiori had no time to celebrate their victory. The force of the impact pivoted Ōnoki towards Onmoraki as he completed the technique. Its explosive force collided directly with the bird who then vanished instantly back to the world from which he'd been summoned. And even worse, Shiori was now in free fall, watching helplessly as Ōnoki dove after the falling scroll.

With nothing to propel her, she realized, Ōnoki was going to reach the scroll first. And with nothing to catch her, _she was going to die._


	21. Chapter 21

A violent explosion rocked Rika awake. Jumping up from bed, Rika's head spun from left to right to assess the situation. She was in her room. _But where was she supposed to be right now?_ Forcing herself to calm down, the kunoichi racked her brain to remember her last orders. Memories of the fight with Sunagakure flooded her mind. The explosion. Shiori. Shiori's last instructions-" _Cover me_." That was it. _She needed to find Shiori_.

* * *

Hanzō stared in concentration at the latest trespasser. The man had just appeared out of thin air. And his appearance was no less strange than his entrance. Thick bandages covered the entirety of his body, save a small hole for his two glowing eyes. Although it was clear that this man possessed frightful levels of chakra, neither he nor his sensor shinobi could detect him till now. _Who was this?_

"Well what do you know, my old friend Mū the Tsuchikage," Gengetsu answered Hanzō's unspoken question. "I'm afraid this confirms my suspicions. The two of you are in league and are conspiring against me!"

 _So, the newcomer was the Tsuchikage._ Mū's abilities and his kekkei tota were legendary even in Amegakure. Usually, Hanzō would relish the challenge he presented, but today his hands were already full with the Mizukage. _Taking on two kage at once would be a first_. He was not afraid, but he would need to be careful. "I have no idea what _you_ are doing here," Hanzō motioned to Mū, "or what the hell you're talking about Mizukage."

"It's too late to play innocent with me Hanzō! Now, prepare yourselves! I'll gladly eliminate you both at once!"

"This is a fitting field for your last fight, Gengetsu," Mū motioned to the grasslands and lake that surrounded them. "But if you hope to stand a chance against me, it won't do to have your attention divided. Please permit me to level the playing field. I'm terribly sorry about all this, Lord Hanzō, but I'm afraid I'll have to tend to you first." Hanzō watched with interest as Mū sprinted to the water, planted himself on its surface, and waved an unfamiliar combination of hand signs. " _Secret Shinobi Art: Dust Release._ "

" _SHUNSHIN!_ ," Hanzō shouted, flickering out of harm's way and onto the water behind his opponent before the Tsuchikage's technique made contact.

"Impressive," Mū said, eyes widening in surprised admiration. "Your reflexes match if not surpass my own."

"It's a little unwise, don't you think Tsuchikage, to rush into another country with no idea who you're up against?" Hanzō asked in a low, threatening voice.

"You are correct," Mū agreed politely. "My apologies for underestimating you."

"The _only one_ underestimated here is _ME_ ," Gengetsu interrupted. "You two buddies are making me feel like the odd one out! I'd better invite my own friend to this party. _Mugen bakuha ninjutsu!_ " Instead of the summoned apparition Hanzō expected to appear, a small ball of spiraling vapor collected in front of the Mizukage. With each rotation, the ball grew larger and larger until its growth exploded outwards in the form of stubby arms, legs, and lastly, a chubby head bearing an absurd resemblance to the Mizukage himself.

"This friend again, Gengetsu?" the Tsuchikage almost yawned. "He's a terrible bore. Lord Hanzō," Mū addressed the village head, "Gengetsu's technique, the 'mugen bakuha,' and I are already intimately acquainted. As you have likely not yet had the pleasure, I'll leave him to you. Consider it my apology for underestimating you earlier. Now, please pardon me while I step out for a moment," Mū motioned to himself as he vanished into the surrounding air as completely as he had arrived.

 _"_ _BLOODY COWARD!"_ Gengetsu spat. "And it's not like that invisibility of yours will do any good, you know. As boring as you think my clone here is, you have to admit what a _blast_ he can be when he's revved up! Perhaps I'll prove it to you first, Hanzō. Clone, show the salamander what you're made of!"

 _That would be helpful_. There was definitely something more than water vapor to this doppelganger, but he didn't intend to find out what. With a forceful thrust, Hanzō launched his kusarigama at the oncoming clone. Hiding behind the wave created in the kusarigama's wake, Hanzō rushed the Mizukage head on, delivering a brutal kick to the elderly kage and catching him off guard. "Your clone is an insult, Mizukage. Don't be foolish enough to think I'll fall for such a cheap distraction!"

" _Cheap?!_ " the furious kage huffed, struggling to recapture the wind knocked from him by Hanzō's kick. "I'd take that back if I were you. My clone has a rather _explosive_ temper."

"Enough with the puns Gengetsu," the phantom-like voice of Mū echoed around the fighters. "You'll give away your national secret."

 _So Mū was still here_. Hanzō was impressed. He couldn't detect Mū's chakra at all. _What was the secret to his invisibility?_

"Still lording over us all from the shadows, Mū?" Gengetsu hissed. "Two can play that game. _Kirigakure no Jutsu!_ " As the Mizukage uttered the words, a thick fog rose from the water, enveloping Hanzō in a nearly opaque cloud. "Now, salamander, I'm afraid you'll have to face my clone whether you like it or not."

Hanzō begrudgingly directed his attention to the curious figure lumbering towards him. It no longer raced at its initial speed and grew larger with each step it took. Even in the dense fog, its presence was unmistakable. _So it's an explosive,_ Hanzō deduced from the Mizukage's hints. _And judging from its size, it could blow any second._ Realizing the need to act quickly, Hanzō raced towards the figure and raised his kusarigama for a blow. _Let's find out what you're made of, clone._

The goblin flashed a wicked grin and shielded itself with a blade that had suddenly popped from its arm. Locking his kusarigama with the clone's weapon, Hanzō quickly scrutinized the clone. Beneath its skin, he detected a faint, colorful sheen. _It's oil!_ Stepping back in alarm, Hanzō teleported to retreat just in time before the now towering clone exploded in a blast of molten steam. As the hot, moist air dispersed, a light hail began to fall from the sky.

 _Hmph._ "Is that all, Mizukage? Your clone is clever; its oil shell traps water. And as it moves, the water becomes warmer, gradually turning to steam before it explodes. Interesting. But useless if it blows itself up before hitting its target. Thank you for saving me the trouble of having to fight it."

"You think I'd let it be that simple for you?" Gengetsu's voice laughed. "Think again!"

Sure enough, another vapor cloud had begun to take shape where the last clone had vanished. _It's reforming._ And it would likely continue to reform over and over after each explosion. _He would need to ruin the clone's composition to stop its regeneration._ Tugging his respirator from his mouth, Hanzō inhaled deeply and encircled the clone and surrounding area with a gust of poisonous breath. To Hanzō's satisfaction, the vapor ceased to swirl and, after some violent billowing, dissolved.

"You astound us again, Lord Hanzō," Mū's voice echoed around them. "I've never heard of Gengetsu's technique being defeated so quickly."

Although Hanzō still could not pinpoint the location of Mū's voice, suddenly he became aware of a presence to his distant left. Careful not to make his suspicion too obvious, Hanzō cocked his head slightly to the side to better his peripheral vision. Out of the corner of his eye, he could detect a faint trace of his poison clinging to an object. _So that's how Mū achieved his invisibility: a water jutsu_. Because Mū's technique was water based, it had inadvertently captured faint traces of Hanzō's poison enabling him to detect it. Seizing the opportunity, Hanzō again launched his kusarigama at the hidden Tsuchikage.

Mū, caught entirely by surprise, struggled to counter with a jutsu before taking the lethal blow. _"_ _Bunretsu no Jutsu!"_

Hanzō watched in amazement as the now visible shinobi split himself in two without waving a single hand sign. As his kusarigama landed on the original Tsuchikage, the second leapt backwards out of harm's way. However, even as the original suffered the brunt of the attack, both Mūs remained. _This was no ordinary clone_. If Mū had simply cloned himself, the injured counterpart would disappear.

"You seem perplexed, Lord Hanzō. Allow me to explain," Mū said calmly. "This is my _Fission Technique_. It allows me to split my body into two identical, yet independent duplicates of myself."

"If that's the case," Hanzō's eyes narrowed at the gravity of this threat, "then why not use your technique to create an army of yourself?"

"Simple. While split, my power is halved, disabling me from using my more powerful techniques. And that, my friend, is why I am here."

"AH-HA!" Gengetsu shouted, emerging from the mist. "So THAT'S your plan! You're here to retrieve the _Black Heart of the Dark Forest_ technique from Hanzō to strengthen your fissions! And with multiple fissions at full strength you intended to overpower me! And in exchange for the scroll, you promised to fund Hanzō's regime!"

"As usual, Mizukage, I don't know what the _hell_ you're talking about," Hanzō barked, "and _you_ ," he pointed again to Mu, "are dreaming if you think I'd surrender one of Amegakure's forbidden techniques!"

"Do you still mean to maintain that you and Mū aren't cohorts?!"

"We are not," Mū insisted. "A Konohagakure informant notified me of the scroll's existence. Hanzō was completely unaware of my plans."

"How CURIOUS!" Gengetsu stroked his attempted goatee. "I was also informed by an informant from Konohagakure that the scroll existed and that Hanzō was going to exchange it with you."

"Then it appears we've both been duped."

Suddenly remembering his entourage, Gengetsu strained his eyes to spot his men on the shore. " _Damn!_ The informant was with me! Where did he go? I only see three of my men! We need to find him to get to the bottom of this!"

"I'm afraid there's no time. I've come too far to leave empty-handed," Mū began to back away from the group. "My deepest apologies Lord Hanzō, but I told my apprentice to inflict as little damage to your city as he retrieved the scroll."

"Your _apprentice?!_ " _He had been tricked_. While Mu lured him out of the city, another shinobi had infiltrated the archives. Hanzō's blood _boiled_ at the thought of his city pillaged while he had been so foolishly deceived.

"Yes, my apprentice. Gengetsu, you remember young Oonoki? If I'm not mistaken," Mū raised his head to the sky and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand, "here he comes now. It appears he's completed his mission."

Hanzō's attention shot to the sky. Far off in the distance, a small figure on a cloud sped over the water away from the city. Before Hanzō could become further enraged, a larger, black figure suddenly descended upon the thief. _That would be Kanzo and Onmoraki_ , Hanzō smirked. _Excellent_. "I wouldn't be so confident in your apprentice, Tsuchikage. It appears he's lost the upper hand." With Kanzo handling the scroll, Hanzō could devote his full attention to the two kage.

"Lord Hanzō!" shouted a voice from the shore. As a small band of his men drew closer, Hanzō's eyes widened in alarm to see Kanzo in the lead.

"Kanzo. If you're here, would you care to inform me who is directing Onmoraki in the sky?" Hanzō pointed to the black figure.

Raising his eye in the direction Hanzō pointed, Kanzo blanched. "Oh god . . . Shiori," he choked.

" _Shiori?!_ ," Hanzō shouted. Somehow, she had seduced Onmoraki to save the day with her. " _Dammit! Shunshin no Jutsu!_ " Forgetting all but the battle unfolding above them in the distance, Hanzō raced to the now falling figures. Hanzō had never doubted himself in the face of an opponent or situation, but for the first time, he doubted he could reach Shiori in time.

And for the first time, _he was afraid_.

* * *

Whenever Shiori fell to her death in nightmares, extreme terror woke her up immediately. Now that that dream had become a reality, she was stunned. _She never imagined it would be like this_. The billowing white clouds above her, the shining silver city behind her, and the blue water below her were _beautiful_. It was almost as if the sight took both her breath and fear away with it. Most impressive of all was the silence surrounding her unlike anything she'd never heard before. It both soothed her and cleared her mind. Free from the restraints of fear, Shiori realized what she needed to do, and free from all distractions, _it just might work_.

Below her, Oonoki flew ever nearer to the scroll. She would not make it in time, but perhaps she could distract him, cause him to lose sight of the scroll just long enough for it to fall into the lake. Hopefully, the scroll would not survive. _Better lost forever than in the hands of the enemy_.

She had only one shot and one technique that had never succeeded. But today it would work. It _had_ to. Raising her arms and hands into position, Shiori envisioned her bow as she had done countless times for Rika and Hanzō. With Rika, she had only managed to set an actual bow and arrow on fire. In her training with Hanzō, she had fared a little better. She had begun to mold her chakra, but the shaping it into anything more advanced than a cylinder had been beyond her. Today, she finally understood. Using the mental image as a template, she traced the bow with fire as an artist traced a stencil with ink. The envisioned weapon blazed to life before her, the elegant bow curling slightly from her head to her toe. Despite its size, she pulled the flaming bowstring taut with ease. Locking onto her target below her, she positioned the vicious, golden arrow to strike.

" _EXCUSE ME SIR, BUT THAT SCROLL BELONGS TO ME!_ " Shiori cried, firing the flaming missile.

Alarmed by the sudden surge of chakra headed his way, Oonoki spun away from the scroll just in time to detect Shiori's arrow. "BLAST IT," he cursed, abandoning the scroll and speeding sideways to safety.

With Oonoki no longer obscuring her path, Shiori could see the scroll descend below her, now nearly above the water's surface. _It was safe_.

But then she remembered _she_ was not.

Bracing herself for impact, her eyes suddenly landed on a figure springing from the waves below. Catching the scroll before fully exhumed from the water, the man steadied himself on the waves, crouched, leapt into the air, and raised his arms. " _SHIORI!_ "

 _Hanzō!_ , Shiori exclaimed in a silent prayer of relief moments before crashing into her husband.

With a strained grunt, Hanzō gripped Shiori to his chest and struggled to remain on the water's surface while the force of Shiori's fall pushed them downwards. "Shiori, are you alright?"

"Yes–I think so," she gasped.

"Can you walk?"

All traces of Shiori's former confidence evaporated as she glanced dubiously down at the water flowing beneath them. "Not a chance."

 _This was bad_. Hanzō's relief at Shiori's successful rescue would be short–lived if he couldn't defend them both from the ground. Above, Mū's apprentice calculated his next move while the two kage would likely arrive any moment. With Shiori stuck in his arms, he was severely disadvantaged.

"My lord!" a voice called from behind. Out of the corner of Hanzō's eye, a figure sprinted into sight from the shore, clutching a large hat to its pale green head. _Tanaka Rika_. The sight flooded Hanzō with relief. With Rika on the ground, he could pass off Shiori and fend off the others until reinforcements arrived.

"Is that Rika?" Shiori strained her head for a better view as her former teacher arrived. "Rika! It _is_ you! What are you doing here?"

"Covering you, of course," Rika smiled, "just like you told me to."

"Rika, return Shiori to the city," Hanzō instructed, "and direct reinforcements to this location."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," a voice spoke as the body of Mū materialized before them. "Oonoki, what's the hold up?"

"Oh, there's no hold up! None whatsoever, Lord Mū!" the aerial shinobi reassured waving his hands. "The girl took me by surprise for a moment there, but I assure you everything is under control."

"The girl?" Mu asked, noticing the woman in Hanzō's arms for the first time.

"Lord Tsuchikage?!" Shiori gasped in disbelief. "I am Shiori Hattori, sister to the Land of Fire's daimyo and first lady of this city. Under different circumstances, it would be a pleasure to meet you, but I regret to inform you that this man here," Shiori flailed in Hanzō's arms to point to Oonoki, "is guilty of trespass and theft."

"As I am well aware since I ordered him to do so. Now, I suggest you leave, Lady Shiori before the situation escalates."

"And I suggest that you not tell me what to do in _my_ country."

"You would be foolish to risk your life over this scroll," Mū's eyes narrowed in annoyance. From the start he had wanted to minimize civilian casualties. Shiori's presence was a major complication.

"You're wrong," Shiori countered. "If I let even one of Amegakure's secrets escape under my watch, I'm not fit to lead it."

"You should leave the heroics to your husband."

"Wrong again," Hanzō intervened. "In Amegakure, _everyone_ is expected to protect the village with their abilities. Shiori's gifts belong to the village as much as the village belongs to her. The same can be said for this scroll," Hanzō said, shaking the parchment in his hands. "Its purpose is to protect _this_ village, not yours. If your aim is to steal it, then you must believe your abilities are not enough on their own. As long as you believe that, you're right. They aren't."

Hanzō's words stunned the aged Tsuchikage into contemplative silence. _He was right_. It was only recently that Mū began to feel his age and doubt whether he would ever soundly defeat Gengetsu. Fear had driven him into this mess and blinded him to such obvious manipulation. Mū bowed his head and clenched his fist feeling both ashamed and embarrassed.

Before he could respond, the water underneath them pulsed in agitation. Slowly, an enormous beige shell rose from the depths, showering its spectators as its two halves parted to reveal a thick pink tongue, Gengetsu, Kanzo, and two squads of men. "It's over Mu!" the Mizukage shouted, stomping his foot on the pink tongue. "You see, I owe Hanzō a big one for this misunderstanding, so you and your trained monkey up there have me to contend with as well!"

"Calm yourself, Gengetsu," Mū rolled his eyes at the rival kage. "Oonoki, I'm calling a retreat."

"But sir!"

"I've had a change of heart. Gengetsu, I will defeat you. But when I do, it will be using my own strength, not strength stolen from others. Lord Hanzō, Lady Shiori, thank you for pointing out the error in my ways. You and Amegakure have earned my respect."

" _And_ mine," Gengetsu interjected, not to be outdone. "I'm almost sorry our fight ended so soon, Hanzō. I would have liked to see it through to the bitter end!"

"Remain any longer and you'll get your wish," Hanzō threatened. "Shiori, return with Rika while I tie up these loose ends."

Shiori, reluctant to be parted from his arms, squeezed him tightly and raised her mouth to his ear. "You saved my life," she spoke softly.

"You saved _our_ village," responded, returning her squeeze lightly before dropping her into Rika's open arms. Secretly, he was as reluctant to let Shiori go as she was to leave. He was unspeakably proud and amazed to find someone whose conviction equaled his own. While the scroll he held in his hand was a priceless treasure, Shiori, he realized, was even more so.

Clinging to Rika, Shiori watched her husband and the kage fade farther and farther into the distance as Rika carried her to shore. "Are you sure we shouldn't stay? What if Hanzō needs you?"

"You need a bath more than Hanzō needs me."

"Why?" Shiori glanced at her, puzzled.

"Because, no offence my lady, but you smell like a buzzard."


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** Greetings everyone! And welcome to the final chapter of Shiori Gaiden Part I! Shiori Gaiden is divided into three acts, the next taking place after a 20 year time skip. Though for plot's sake, a lengthy time skip was required, a lot unfortunately gets left out. I've tried to chronicle those adventures on my DeviantArt page (also Catgirldstr11), so if you're interested in more stories and character development, you can check there. Thank you so much for reading, and look for Chapter 23 early next week!

* * *

Several mornings later, Shiori found herself once again standing rear in the air next to Rika. The return of their stretching routine carried her back to her first day of training. But this time, Shiori felt the opposite of self-conscious. Although from this angle everything seemed upside down, all was at last right with the world.

After profuse apologies and pledges to Hanzō's regime, the two kage departed to investigate the mysterious Konohagakure informant and to settle their differences _outside_ Amegakure. And as word spread of Hanzō's impressive stand off against the two great leaders and Shiori's daring free fall, the citizens of Amegakure celebrated the couple as national heroes. Each passing day floods of countryside recruits arrived in the city to enlist in Hanzō's army.

And best of all, _her Rika had returned_.

"For some reason," her teal eyed companion groaned, "stretching is a lot harder than it used to be."

"If I ventured a guess," Shiori smirked, "I'd say it's because you've been force-fed like a goose for three months. Which is my fault," Shiori frowned in remorse.

"Hey, stop apologizing already. And it looks like I'm not the only one who's gained weight!" Rika teased, returning Shiori's jab.

Shiori blushed in _horror_. Lately, she had felt hungrier, a symptom she attributed to a more active lifestyle. Though the few extra pounds were not unhealthy, they were _far_ from welcome. And while she had begun to notice subtle changes, it _appalled_ her to think that they were obvious to anyone besides her. The thought that it was visible made her sick. _Physically_ sick. At that very moment she was _actually going to be sick_. "Excuse me," Shiori choked as she dashed to the nearest washroom.

Rika, stuck in position, winced at each unpleasant gag reverberating from the bathroom. "Hey Shiori," she called through the regrettably thin washroom door, "when you're done in there, how about we head to the infirmary?"

* * *

Unable to make out Kanzo's words through the deafening rain, Hanzō led the shinobi under the slanted awning of an abandoned storefront. Kanzo's appearance in the city at this time of day could only mean one thing: _news_. Try as he might to distract his mind with organizing the new recruits and preparing for his next campaign, he could not shake the mystery of the Konohagakure informant from his mind. As both the Mizukage and the Tsuchikage had all the information surrounding the individual, Hanzō could do nothing but wait for the results of their investigations.

"This had better be–"

"A missive from the Mizukage," Kanzo interrupted. "It is."

Accepting the scroll from his assistant, Hanzō broke the ornate wax seal with haste, hungry to devour the scroll's contents.

Kanzo waited for his lord's eyes to cease dancing across the page before breaching the tense silence. "And?"

"Nothing," Hanzō huffed, suspicions confirmed. "Just as we thought. Whoever it was left no trace of his identity, escape route, or motive."

"It's still possible that this plot wasn't directly aimed at you; that the perpetrator only wanted to cause trouble between Iwagakure and Kirigakure. You and the _Black Heart of the Dark Forest_ scroll may have been no more than mere pawns."

"Possibly," Hanzō frowned. "But I don't like that the informant knew about this scroll's existence, let alone its contents. The _Black Heart_ technique requires the user to possess both Fire and Earth chakra natures. Whoever it was knew this and knew that Mū, who has those chakra natures and more, would be able to use it. Has the scroll been moved to its new location?"

"Yes, sir. That scroll as well as the others you specified have been moved to a secure location within headquarters."

"Good," Hanzō nodded tersely in approval, though it did little to relieve his unease; a feeling that only worsened when a dash of pale green caught the corner of his eye. Sure enough, Rika's lanky figure soon slid between the throngs of pedestrians with catlike grace towards them. While her presence did not disturb him, her appearance _without Shiori_ did.

"Rika, why isn't Shiori with you?" Hanzō asked, voice rising with a hint of warning. "You were assigned to her until this afternoon."

"I just dropped her off at the infirmary."

"Why?! What happened?" Hanzō interrogated, his mind jumping from one bad scenario to another.

"Nothing happened. Shiori felt unwell, so I took her to the doctor. I thought you might like to visit her," Rika shrugged, exchanging a cryptic glance with Kanzo.

"Take me to her."

* * *

Finding Shiori seated at the foot of a hospital bed reminded Hanzō of the last time he'd landed her there only a few months earlier. _He prayed he hadn't sent her there again_. For weeks now he'd questioned the wisdom of teaching her ninjutsu. It was only a matter of time before she got hurt.

Fortunately, Shiori appeared pale but unharmed. Hanzō's entrance prompted both his wife and her doctor to jump in surprise. After whispering a final, private word to Shiori, the bespeckled physician politely bowed and excused herself from the room.

"Hanzō! How did you know I was here?"

"Rika reported to me after dropping you off. But she didn't explain why. What's wrong?"

" _Rika_ ," Shiori smiled, shaking her head. "Are you sure she's not a sensor shinobi like Kanzo? She'd have to be in order to find out before we did."

"Find out what?!" Hanzō asked, increasingly impatient with everyone's choice of indirect communication that day.

"I'm expecting."

Hanzō stood frozen as the meaning of Shiori's words slowly broke through to him. "That's . . . not how sensing jutsu work," he mouthed, dropping beside her on the bed.

"Now _you_ look pale. Do I need to fetch a bucket? You look sicker than I did thirty minutes ago."

"I'm not sick," Hanzō shook his head. "I feel like I did when I won my first battle . . . at Tenshō Iga."

"You know, in Konoha, there's a word for that feeling. ' _Joy_ ," Shiori teased, her last words muffled by Hanzō's vest as he suddenly pulled her into his tight embrace. Touched, Shiori wrapped her arms around him in response. For several moments, the two sat quietly lost in their own thoughts.

Shiori was first to break the silence. "What are you thinking?"

"I never expected I could have children. I don't know what to think."

 _That's right_ , Shiori remembered. The side effects of Hanzō's condition affected him in unforeseeable ways. "Apparently you can," Shiori squeezed. "We're going to be _parents_ ," she whispered to herself, practicing the word that would soon describe her.

"Not just to this child," Hanzō pushed Shiori away just far enough to look into her eyes. "But also to our dynasty. _Yours and mine_."

Her heart too full to speak, Shiori gently clasped her husband's hand. Though their bodies remained grounded in the present, their thoughts soared ahead towards future possibilities.

* * *

Danzō knew he couldn't lay low forever. If he kept out of the Hokage's way any longer, Tobirama would surely suspect he was hiding something. Deciding to allay suspicions with a preemptive appearance, Danzō gathered his materials and headed to the Hokage's office.

"What's this?" Tobirama eyed the mound of papers plopped on his desk with mild interest.

"Intelligence reports from Root. You'll be pleased with all that we've managed to accomplish so far."

Taking the thick stack in hand, Tobirama leafed through its neat pages at a leisurely pace. "Thank you," he said dropping the report on a similar stack of papers at the far edge of his desk. "Is that all?"

"Yes, for now."

After a terse nod from the Hokage, Danzō turned to leave. "There's one more thing, Danzō." As the Hokage spoke his name, Danzō's heart froze in his chest. "I had a curious meeting with the Mizukage yesterday. He alleges that a Konoha shinobi set him up on a fool's errand to Amegakure. You and your Root wouldn't have heard anything about _that_ , I take it?"

Danzō willed his face to remain unreadable. "No sir. But we can look into it."

"There's no need. The damage has already been done."

"What damage?" Danzō asked, a pit opening up in his stomach.

"Gengetsu is understandably enraged. He made it clear that any respect he once held for the Leaf has dissolved. It was inevitable, but it appears that our alliance with Kirigakure is at its end."

"Then allow Root to lead a diplomatic mission to Kirigakure!" Danzō insisted a little too energetically. "Leave it to us to salvage the bond."

"Don't bother. By the time you arrived, Root's trial period will already be terminated."

The pit deepened. "You're saying Root will not receive permanent legitimacy."

Tobirama nodded somberly.

"I understand. Good evening," Danzō bowed and exited the compound.

It was only after he'd reached the edge of the village and the treeline of the neighboring forest that he cast aside his cool demeanor. Punching the nearest maple tree with a cry of rage, Danzō then sank to the ground in despair. His plans had all backfired _spectacularly_ with no one to blame but himself . . .

 _And Amegakure_.

Danzō's face twisted into a bitter smile. It was as if that land's air had been a contagion, infecting both him and his ambitions. Amegakure, Hanzō, even Shiori herself, _all_ had contributed to his downfall.

At length, the cool evening air began to extinguish Danzō's fiery temper. Noticing the pile of leaves on which he sat for the first time, he lifted one and rolled its stem between his calloused fingers. One glance at his hardened hands reminded him of all the labor and effort he'd invested in his dream. Slowly, he could feel his resolve return. _He would become Hokage of this village_. And when he did, _Amegakure would pay_.

All his failed, old plans were just rotten leaves, he decided, dropping the crumbling plant to the ground. _Rotten leaves cast off to make way for a verdant spring._


	23. Chapter 23

_Twenty years later_ . . .

Amegakure. The implacable afternoon weather was as signature to the city as the skyline it concealed. Torrents of rain assailed the ground as if at war with the earth, cloaking the bottom dwellers and their homes in muddy shrapnel. The slimy, brown earth for those that resided on and walked the city's lowest tier made for the perfect disguise, the drab colors of their coats and umbrellas indistinguishable from the mire that caked them. It was the perfect time and place to go if you wanted to blend in, but the _worst_ if you wanted to tell anything apart.

Hatsuharu Hattori slicked his hair back in frustration. Every time he visited his team's apartment, it was as though he were finding his way for the first time. His two teammates, Yemon and Nora, lived at the bottom rung of a low-end shinobi district composed of unremarkable, utilitarian units. On some mental level, he had decided his teammate's residence was unworthy of applying to memory. It freed space in his mind for far more interesting observations, but it did present him with a challenge whenever he tried to visit. At least today he'd managed to narrow the address down to two doors, 110 and 111.

Fortunately, a shinobi always had a solution for such problems. Taking a few steps to door 110, Hatsu pressed his ear against the damp wood. Hearing nothing but silence, he moved on to door 111. Sure enough, his strategy was rewarded by the faint sound of female screeching from within. A wide, mischievous grin spread across Hatsu's face as he pressed harder against the door. Between the screeches, he could now hear a soft, low male voice. Whenever the male interjected, the screeches escalated. _This was the one_. Now sure that he stood before the correct door, he paused for a few moments more to enjoy the chaos he'd caused before ending it all with a rap of his umbrella handle.

As soon as he did, the apartment fell silent, save for the shuffling of feet. Shortly after, the door opened to reveal a small, middle aged woman wearing a pale blue robe and a welcoming smile. "Come in, Lord Hatsuharu! Please come in! Nora? _NORA?!_ " The woman turned, frantic to locate her daughter.

"Behind you," her daughter replied. "Right where you left me. Not more than ten seconds ago." Nora flashed Hatsu an angry scowl. Like her mother, the white haired kunoichi was also wearing a blue robe whose color blanched in comparison to her ice blue eyes. Hatsu grimaced at the garb. It was a chalky shade a blue that could only have been selected in the dark. _It probably was_. After all, the robes they wore were the hallmark of their former home, the Village Hidden in the Mines. _And how bright could it possibly be down there?_ Only total lack of light could account for such total lack of style.

Noticing Hatsu's disapproving expression, Nora's nose wrinkled in displeasure. "May I fetch you anything to drink, _Lord_ Hatsuharu?" she asked, sounding more angry than obsequious.

"Why _yes_ , actually. A cup of tea would be _lovely_ ," Hatsu grinned, relishing the power he wielded over the siblings in their home. Once the silver-haired female stormed out of the room, Hatsu turned to locate the second sibling. As he turned, his eyes inspected the small but tidy apartment. Fresh coats of news clippings and propaganda papered the walls for décor and probably insulation. Every other headline seemed to feature a member of the Hattori family. _Talk about becoming a household name_. The small living room and attached dining room did not have much by way of furniture: a couch, two chairs, and a four person table which blocked in a bulky armoire. A second glance revealed the large piece of furniture was not an armoire, but his hulking teammate, Yemon. Doubtless, the large man couldn't stand without bumping his white bun against the ceiling. Despite his intimidating height and build, the gentle medic far preferred the operating room to the battlefield. "Now Yemon, why aren't you wearing _your_ pretty dress for me too?"

Rather than respond, Yemon merely rolled his eyes and waved to the seat beside him. "Why don't you just have a seat, your majesty." With a smirk, Hatsu slid into the seat next to Yemon. Shortly after, Nora rejoined the group bearing a tray of tea and appetizers.

"Dinner's almost ready. But you know Hatsu, we wouldn't have to wait _at all_ if you'd just choose to have our meetings at a restaurant like a normal ninja."

"Now why would I do that," Hatsu widened his eyes and raised his arms in wonder, "when your charming family treats me like royalty here? Besides, you know the drill. We take turns. Next time you get to choose our meeting place, we'll go to wherever you want."

"Then my next turn, I'm choosing _your_ house," she declared, dropping the tray on the table.

"I'm afraid that's the one location off limits," Hatsu helped himself to a cup of tea and a yakitori stick. "The Hattori household simply won't do; the walls have ears."

"Why should that matter?" Yemon's ears pricked in interest. "Are you planning something illegal?"

"Vicariously, yes," Hatsu smiled. "But relax. I'll keep your hands clean."

"Oh no, _absolutely not_ ," Nora furiously shook her head. "Whatever you're thinking, I won't let it wreck our plans. Yemon and I are so close to our jonin promotions, we can taste it. If we get caught up in whatever you're scheming, we might as well kiss our dreams goodbye."

"Don't be so dramatic, Nora," Hatsu groaned, waving his now-empty yakitori skewer at her. "You know, you're the poster child for everything that's wrong with shinobi today. You act more like soldiers, obsessing over rules and rank, and refuse to accept that sometimes you must stoop to conquer. It's not like the most dangerous opponents will ever engage us honorably above ground. Sometimes you have to sink to their level if you ever want to catch them in the underworld."

"You'd think Sanshōuo no Hanzō and Lady Shiori would instill a little more honor in their son," Nora remarked.

"In my opinion, honor is a stumbling block to shinobi. Morality just gets in the way. If anything, our purpose as shinobi is to preserve the honor of others, to preserve the illusion that our leader's hands are clean."

"I hate to ask," Yemon interrupted, "but when you say 'underworld,' what do you mean this time? The black market? Brothels? Gangs?" Since joining team Hattori, Yemon and his sister had become intimately acquainted with all three.

Hatsu smiled. "Caught your interest, have I? I've asked the Sumiyoshi gang to cut a deal with Kandachi and his band. The deal will go down sometime next week. We'll only have notice a few hours before it happens, so we need to be prepared to leave at any time."

"Kandachi is coming here?!" Nora nearly jumped from her seat. Kandachi, leader of one of the few remaining opposition groups in Amegakure preventing the country from unification, had been a menace to the country for nearly a decade. Ambitious and cruel, he and his men had ransacked village after village in search of a new base. Nora and Yemon's home, the Village Hidden in the Mines, had been just one of many fallen towns that lay in his wake. "This is our chance to get rid of him once and for all!"

"No," Hatsu ordered. "I want to keep Kandachi on the board for now. That's why my father cannot find out about this. We still need Kandachi. He's strong enough to take on rival factions, but too unsophisticated to stand a real chance against my father. Without intelligence or popularity, he won't last much longer."

"So what are you proposing," Nora shouted angrily, "that we just sit back and watch the man who destroyed our village march into our city?"

"You know, Nora, killing the man won't make you feel any better. You'd need to kill him a thousand times in a thousand different ways to strike a dent in your anger, but you can only kill him once. You're much better off toying with and using him before destroying him. _Relish_ this opportunity."

"So what do you want us to do?" Yemon asked.

"Keep a look out for _this_ ," Hatsu pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slid it to Yemon. The folded parchment contained only five, thick squiggly lines. "Have you ever encountered this seal before, Yemon? I've seen it twice now. The first on a man infiltrating the Sumiyoshi, the second on a man within Father's regime."

"I have not," Yemon said, studying the paper. "Where were the seals placed?"

"On their tongues."

"Then this must be a cursed seal to prevent the bearer from speaking out about their mission."

Nora crossed her arms in thought. "So it sounds like whoever they are, they're interested in infiltrating various Amegakure organizations. Do you know who they are? Another gang? A crime syndicate? Or do you think this is Kandachi's doing?"

"This doesn't look like Kandachi's work, though I am curious to see if his group has been infiltrated as well. Whoever is behind this is spying on Amegakure. And judging from the fact that no one I can find is familiar with this seal, I believe it may be someone from the outside." Indeed, international espionage seemed the most likely candidate. Tension between the great shinobi nations was rising, and once again Amegakure was right in the middle of a brewing storm. If Konoha or any of the other great nations desired war, it would need to gauge the full scope of Amegakure's strengths and weaknesses.

"So you're telling us," Nora gathered, "that you want us to inspect every tongue in the city?"

"Or the country, if you're not terribly busy."

"And how exactly are we supposed to do this? Make everyone open wide and say ' _ahhh_ '?"

"That, or get ready to pucker up. Now might be a good time for you to start looking for that dress, Yemon," Hatsu jabbed. "And remember, if you don't like my idea, you could always think of something else. Try being shinobi for once."

"But even if we clear two groups next week, that will barely put dent in everyone we need to inspect. This mission is too big for just the three of us," Yemon pointed out.

"It's not just the three of us. I've enlisted others for this task as well." In fact, one of those groups seemed especially promising. A new band, calling themselves the Akatsuki, was slowly growing and bringing stability to the civil war-torn northern countryside. Satisfied that the group intended to support the Hanzō regime rather than rival it, Hatsu had contacted them offering official recognition in exchange for their initial, underground assistance. They jumped at the opportunity. And with their position close to the border, they would perhaps have a better vantage to observe infiltrating outsiders. "So are we all convinced now?" Hatsu's eyes darted from sibling to sibling.

"As if we had any other choice," Nora muttered.

"I'm so sorry for the delay!" a voice interrupted from the kitchen. Soon after, Nora and Yemon's mother emerged bearing a second tray of noodles and buns.

"Please, allow me," Hatsu rose from his seat and took the tray from the woman, inhaling the aroma with dramatic flair before placing the tray down. "But I'm the one who must apologize. All that time I wasted getting lost has made me too late to enjoy dinner with you. I'm afraid I've a meeting with my father this evening that I simply cannot miss."

"Oh!" the woman's eyes opened wide at the allusion to Hanzō. "Of course! Of course! But please, take some with you!"

"Madam," Hatsu took the woman's hands in his own, and raised them to his lips for a kiss, "it would be my pleasure."

As Hatsu prepared to depart, Yemon and Nora watched their mother fret over her favorite, unofficial child. Closing the door behind their guest, she released one last melancholy sigh. "What a shame he had to leave so soon. Isn't he just the nicest young man?"


	24. Chapter 24

That same miry evening, a second family dinner was served in a much more spacious apartment twelve blocks away. Despite its opulence and prestigious placement amongst the Amegakure skyline, this dining room failed to prevent the oncoming storm from dampening the family's spirits. However, the Hattori family had proven time and time again that it thrived in such storms, and this was to be its largest yet.

From the head of the table, Sanshōuo no Hanzō surveyed the scene in contemplative wonder. The Hanzō of twenty-one years ago would not have believed such a transformation of circumstances. He now controlled ninety percent of Amegakure, its resources, and its people. Complete control of Amegakure was now within his grasp, and the unification of the shinobi world no longer seemed an impossible dream. But that was no surprise. No, the true transformation sat around this dining room table, _his family_.

Gone were the days of solitary meals. Now, Hanzō dined in the audience of his parents, wife, children, and closest friends. Opposite his end sat his aging father and mother, upon whom sat his youngest son, Kyo. The village head was pleased to see that, at least at their end of the table, ignorance had protected their lively banter and high spirits. For a few moments, Hanzō's eyes lingered on his son as the nine-year-old boy charmed his parents with the youthful innocence they'd taken from him. Even his outlook towards _that_ had changed. His parent's presence, once a point of contention, now caused him no grief. The cold indifference he felt towards them had gradually melted as the joy they brought to his children warmed his heart.

Despite that warmth, a chilling shadow had fallen on his side of the table. _Kisa must have felt it too_. From the corner of his eye, Hanzō spied his fifteen-year-old daughter observing him closely. The shadows her furrowed brows cast over her features indicated she was onto his secret, but she knew better than to inquire directly. An obedient solider, her faith in him was so unshakable, she required no explanation. When the time came, she knew he would tell her all she needed to know. His eldest son, Hatsuharu, _he_ on the other hand was a different story.

As if sensing the shift in his thoughts, Kisa addressed her brother's absence for the first time that evening. "Father, there are no reports of my brother's return. I fear for the safety of Amegakure." Hanzō's mouth curved into a smirk beneath his mask at his daughter's deadpan joke. Though her dour Hattori expression remained unchanged, her eyes twinkled with mischief. Few besides himself could appreciate her subtle sense of humor.

"Fortunately for all our sakes," his wife, Shiori, reassured their daughter with a conspiratorial, red smile, "he is not alone. Hatsu is dining with his teammates this evening. I'm sure they'll keep his bad behavior at bay. We should be supportive of this new team. Perhaps it will provide him with some accountability, and save you the effort of checking up on him."

Hanzō's attention turned to his wife who, until now, had barely spoken all evening. After twenty years of marriage, Hanzō could plainly see that her smile thinly concealed her unease. Their secret affected her most, the burden he'd placed on her shoulders much heavier than any child she'd born him. It pained him to ask this of her, but he could entrust no other.

"My brother does not have teammates," Kisa interrupted, suddenly serious, "he has accomplices. The male nurse and his sister have no immunity to his manipulations. It's dangerous to give him free reign over them."

Hanzō and Shiori exchanged dubious glances. _Their daughter had a point_. Hatsuharu's cleverness straddled the line of dangerous subversion, leaving his parents in a difficult position. While they often disapproved of his Machiavellian leadership, his methods in combat and intelligence-gathering were extraordinarily effective, and _precisely_ the sort of tactics Amegakure would require in the days to come.

Shortly before the meal's conclusion, the prodigal son announced his return with a dramatic parting of the room's double doors. "Hello family," he sang as he made his way around the dining room table, greeting each family member in turn. "Sis," he gave the teenage girl's head a series of heavy pats before proceeding to noogie his little brother. "Monkey, and last but not least, Mother," he kissed Shiori on the cheek and dropped into the seat beside his father. "Now what did Cook make for you all this evening?" Hatsuharu lifted the covers of one of the remaining dishes to investigate.

"You would know had you planned your 'team meeting' around our family meal time," his sister chastised.

" _Aw_ ," he crooned, helping himself to a plate of leftovers, "Kisa, I missed _you too_."

Taking a visual cue from her husband, Shiori and Hanzō rose to leave. "Please excuse us. I have some last minute business to attend to before my trip."

"Trip?" Hatsuharu's ears pricked with curiosity. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"We will brief you this evening. Join us in my office when you're done here," his father instructed.

"Sounds like someone's in trouble!" Kyo jabbed from the far end of the table. _And perhaps he was_. Hatsuharu's parents forbade most from their private quarters, even their children. An invitation to his father's private study was either a rare privilege or a strange, new punishment. Interest piqued, Hatsuharu hastily finished his second dinner that evening and bounded upstairs to his parent's candlelit study. Like most rooms in their home, this one was also sparsely but handsomely furnished with every book, scroll, and pen appeared artfully arranged on the table. It didn't look like a place of heavy paperwork but rather of ceremonial importance. "Well, isn't this a romantic change of scene," Hatsuharu remarked, lounging into his seat. "May I ask what we're celebrating this evening? An announcement? An anniversary?"

"Your promotion," Hanzō corrected, "but only if you do exactly as I say."

"Tomorrow," Shiori continued, "I leave for a mediation between Konohagakure, Sunagakure, and Iwagakure in the Land of Iron. The three are gathering to find a peaceful solution to the ongoing shinobi arms race. Because Amegakure has a stake in whatever agreement they reach, I've volunteered my service as moderator."

"Oh, Mother, don't waste your breath," her son sighed in frustration. "You know better than to expect them to talk their differences away. Their squabble is rooted in prejudice against one another, not reason. There's no way you'll ever win their minds over with _logic_."

"I'm afraid you're right," Shiori smiled sadly, "which is why this will be the _last_ mediation."

"And you want me to go with you," Hatsuharu concluded. "Well, I'm so sorry; next week is terribly busy for me, I'm afraid. Why don't you take the cute one, Kyo, instead? Let good old Uncle Ayame have one pinch of those little rosy cheeks, and _poof_ , world peace."

"I'm sending both Kyo and Kanzo with your mother. I have another place for you, so I'm afraid you will have to postpone your plans."

"Kanzo? Is Rika not enough?" His father's second-in-command was a strange choice to play escort to an ambassadorial meeting, unless this _wasn't_ your everyday arbitration. "Is this mediation or a mission?"

"Both," Hanzō said, pulling a scroll from his vest and unrolling it upon the desk. "And here is where you come in."

"I'm listening," Hatsuharu leaned forward in curiosity. After two hours of explanation and briefing, Hatsuharu took one last look at the plans to apply them to memory before his father returned the scroll to his vest pocket. "I'm glad you've entrusted this to me," Hatsuharu rubbed his hands together, a smile of anticipation spreading across his face. "I have so many ideas, I can't wait to get started."

"You may insert creativity where you see fit, but you are not to deviate from the plan," Hanzo warned. "Time is of the essence, and this ensures what we want as quickly as possible."

"I don't know about that," Hatsuharu rose to take his leave. "As far as I see, Mother, your part in this is still unnecessary and sets implementation back three days at least. Why not stay out of the matter entirely? We could still execute this with you safely nestled in the city. Why put yourself in such needless danger?"

"Because," she sighed, "I want to allow them one final chance to resolve this, no matter how unlikely they will accept. Once they reject this final offer, my conscious will be clear."

"Careful Mother that good conscious of yours doesn't prove to be a greater risk than any of the great nations. If you allow compassion to run away with you, we'll find ourselves in an embarrassing situation." With his final words of warning, the young jonin departed to allow his parents their final moments of peace before the world changed forever.

Alone with his wife, Hanzō extended an arm to her. Now all that remained to do was ensure she was ready. Guiding her outside onto their balcony, together they overlooked the neon-lit skyline of the city they'd built. Hanzō's eyes gazed only briefly at the scene before returning to his wife. Without her ideas and energy, his dream of a unified Amegakure would not be nearly as close as it was today. While he fought on the ground to unite the country, she fought equally hard from the capital to develop infrastructure, install a sustainable rule of law, and save the economy from recession and inflation. She had not only helped him achieve his vision, but had also honed and improved it. Over time, his dream had become her own, and in turn, _she had become his_. Shiori had already done so much for himself and their city, but they required one final sacrifice from her, one that placed her body and heart in grave danger. Hanzō realized he would have to be careful to protect them both in the events that would soon follow. "Shiori," he wrapped his large, dark hand around her waist, "are you certain you want to do this? Hatsuharu is technically right. Though your part in this gives us an element of surprise, it's not worth it to me if it leaves you forever disgusted with yourself."

"Don't fret," she pressed her soft lips to his hand in reassurance. "If I appear worried, it's only for the people of Konohagakure, nothing more. But if everything unfolds as quickly as we plan, bloodshed will be minimal. And hopefully, the sooner we end this, the sooner they will become _our_ people."

"Even if our plan succeeds, they'll hate you for what you're about to do."

"I'm no longer a slave to their good opinion," Shiori clenched her teeth in anger. And besides, _their good opinion had become worthless in her eyes_. From Amegakure, the seasoned Shiori could now see Konohagakure's true colors. For centuries, it suppressed the militaristic forces and economies of surrounding nations for the sake of "balance," often trampling over Amegakure to do so. Shiori bitterly recounted each village she and her husband had restored and helped flourish, only to see it burn to the ground as the great nations spilled their conflict onto Amegakure's soil. Though the kage of the great shionobi nations refused to acknowledge the conflict as anything more than borderline skirmishes, it was clear to all of Amegakure that they and the surrounding nations were already at war. Mediations and peace talks had resulted in nothing but disingenuous apologies and broken promises. Finally, years of experience had eroded her reluctance to take a stand against her homeland and hold them accountable for their war crimes.

"If violence is the only way to open Konoha's sheltered eyes to the reality of this world, then the sacrifice is one we must make. Perhaps their people will forgive us once we've enlightened them. After all, the Village Hidden in the Leaves should know better than anyone that sometimes you have to burn a forest to help it grow."


	25. Chapter 25

In the icy Land of Iron, the bundled inhabitants rarely witnessed the sun set behind frosted mountain peaks before it was engulfed by the billowy, evening storm clouds. Like sentries, the clouds surrounded the capital city, stalling intruders until the light of day returned. To the samurai guarding the great city wall, their arrival signaled a changing of the guard, the impenetrability of the opaque mist rendering their service unnecessary. And while the samurai guards were thankful for the relief these storms provided, they were no less thankful for shelter to escape them. Therefore, when evening fell and the winds rose, all guards manning the gate to the Land of Iron retreated inside, save for one.

Noting the absence of his third-in-command, Lord Tokugawa, leader of the Land of Iron, headed upstairs to the wind-blasted city wall. "Mifune, come down. You're wasting your stamina needlessly. Our guests have now all arrived."

"All but one have arrived," the grey-haired samurai corrected, keeping his eyes locked on the nearly obfuscated road.

Tokugawa counted off each guest in his head. All ambassadors, kage, and daimyo from the Land of Fire, the Land of Earth, and the Land of Wind were now present. _That left_ . . . "Oh, I understand now. You're still waiting on your old friend."

"I doubt he thinks me his friend," Mifune chuckled within his armor. "I doubt he thinks of me at all. That was twenty-five years ago. Doubtless he's forgotten our insignificant duel." Though decades had passed since he last laid eyes upon the Amegakure village head, he remembered their battle as vividly as though it had been yesterday. For years, he'd longed for a second encounter with the living legend; a second chance to test his sharpness.

"While I would encourage you to reintroduce yourself, unfortunately I've received word he will not be joining us this week. He has sent his wife, Lady Shiori, in his place."

"Another time then," Mifune sighed heavily in disappointment.

"And if it's any consolation," his superior offered, "perhaps Lady Shiori can entertain you in his stead. I hear things are never dull when the Fire Daimyo and his sister are under the same roof."

"We'll soon find out," Mifune squinted as a small object in the distance emerged through the snow flurry. "She's arrived."

* * *

In the carriage below, Kyo defrosted the glass pane with his sleeve and gazed out the carriage window in relief. "Mom! Rika! I think I see it!"

"Oooo, let me see!" Shiori's bodyguard shoved the young boy's face aside with her green head.

"Careful Kyo," Shiori reached for her son's blond hair in a final effort to flatten his unwieldy cowlicks before arrival, "if you dampen your sleeves, they'll freeze the moment we step out of this coach." Inclining her head to sneak a peek out the window, Shiori heaved a sigh of relief. With the violent snow storm clipping at their heels, they hadn't arrived a moment too soon.

Once the icy gates gave way to the cavernous opening of the capital, a small fleet of armored samurai surrounded the carriage. As Kanzo leapt down from his post to open the door for Shiori, the men parted way for their leader. "Lady Shiori," Tokugawa took the blonde's hand from Kanzo and ushered her forward, "welcome to the Land of Iron. But please, let's continue these pleasantries inside. This weather threatens to undermine your warm welcome." Inside the warmth of the Spartan but comfortable compound, Tokugawa and his men escorted the party through a series of rooms, each brimming with guests for the meditation. Though practically already at war, the representatives from each nation greeted one another and Shiori with bright smiles and good spirits hoping perhaps a few friendly words could make all the world's problem's disappear.

To Shiori's satisfaction, she could see that her young son was also serving to lessen tension with his artless charm. His genuine awe of the present kage flattered the foreign shinobi into letting down their guard around the small Amegakure party. With any luck, he would have the same effect on her brother, the one daimyo she had yet to encounter.

"Young master Kyo appears to be warming our frozen hearts," Tokugawa motioned to the boy who was now throwing the Tsuchikage's palm his best punch. "Perhaps there's still hope for peace yet."

"Perhaps," Shiori halfheartedly agreed. "But I fear my brother's heart will not be so easily softened. Where is the Konohagakure party? Have they arrived? I am anxious to introduce my son to his uncle."

"They are in the east wing," one of Tokugawa's men interrupted. "I would be happy to escort you there, my lady." Following the armored escort with party in tow, Shiori arrived at the wing where Konohagakure had quarantined itself only to shrink backwards in shock. The room contained many familiar faces, among them her brother, Ayame and the current Sandaime Hokage. Their presence, however, nearly escaped her notice as her eyes were instead drawn to a third figure she had not seen in decades. Though his face was weathered and now framed by deep frown lines, he was still unmistakably Danzō Shimura. Sensing her lady's unease, Rika stepped beside Shiori and appraised the middle aged shinobi with catlike curiosity.

"Shiori," Ayame frowned at her entrance, "what a surprise to find you here. I'm sure it was considerate of you to come, but your presence here is unnecessary. You can trust that Konoha and the other great nations will consider Amegakure's welfare in whatever decision we reach."

"I cannot trust that," Shiori tore her eyes from Danzō to address her brother. "To date, Konohagakure has failed to uphold any agreement with Amegakure. This pattern is likely to persist without our interference." _Things were not going as planned_. Danzō's reappearance had shaken her and clouded her objective. Now was not the time to incense the Fire Daimyo. "But let us save this conversation for the mediation tomorrow. The reason I've sought you out this evening is to introduce you to someone," she beckoned her son forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Your youngest nephew, my son, Kyo."

"Violet eyes, like yours and your father's before you," Danzō spoke for the first time. "An anomaly in your children, I believe." Her old adversary's observation frightened Shiori and caused her to grip on Kyo to tighten. _When had Danzō ever had the opportunity to observe her children? Let alone the color of their eyes?_ Evidently, time and distance had not deterred the sinister man's surveillance. Danzō's revelation of this now was clearly an intimidation tactic. _And an effective one at that_.

Meanwhile, Ayame inspected his nephew in silence before nodding in terse approval. "You bear the outward appearance of your Konohagakure heritage. May your character be equally representative." Uncertain how to respond, Kyo gazed at Rika in silent plea who responded with a wink and tip of her hat. Catching her drift, Kyo bowed lowly and retreated behind his mother.

First objective accomplished, though unsuccessful, Shiori initiated their retreat. "You, like ourselves have traveled all day and must be tired. We will leave you now and greet you in the morning." Withdrawing from the room as quickly as politeness permitted, Shiori and her company were once more joined by their samurai escorts.

"Your quarters are this way. Please follow us." After ushering the Amegakure party to their quarters and ensuring arrangements for their security, all but one samurai departed to report to their master. "My lady," the remaining samurai spoke, removing his horned iron helmet to release a cascade of long, grey hair, "may I have a word?"

Curious at what the foreign man could possibly have to say to her, Shiori readily agreed. "Of course, sir."

"I am Mifune Toshirō," he kneeled, lifting Shiori's hand for a kiss. "Many years ago I fought your husband, Lord Hanzō."

"I have heard of you, Lord Mifune," Shiori's eyes widened in surprise. "You must be as great as the rumors suggest to have survived an encounter with him. I rarely encounter my husband's former opponents, for most of them cease to exist."

"It is only thanks to his mercy that I and many of my friends stand before you today."

"Then you must be someone he greatly respects," Shiori's eyes softened. "Occasionally I hear an adversary survived, but never have I heard one was spared."

"It is an honor I endeavor to earn to this day. I wished to tell you that should you ever have need of anything, I will always be at your service. Paltry as it may be, I can think of nothing else to repay your husband for his kindness."

Detecting an opening in the exchange, Kyo wriggled his way forward and into the conversation. "Are you really Mifune Toshirō? The Champion of Wakkanai?"

"Why, yes," the samurai blushed, humbled that his fame had reached the foreign ears of an Amegakure child.

"The Roamer of the Ice-bound Lands?"

"The very same."

"Is it true that you can stop a shinobi in his tracks before he can even use ninjutsu?!"

"Would you like to find out?"

" _YES!_ "

"But _not_ ," Shiori warned, "in this hallway."

"Of course. If you would like and if your mother permits, I would be happy to show you in our gym."

"Mom!" Kyo spun to his mother in a flurry of excitement, "may I _please?!_ "

"Of course. That would be very useful for you to see. Thank you for the opportunity, Lord Mifune. Would you mind if my friend Kanzo accompanies you?"

"Of course, m'am."

As a gleeful Kyo sprinted down the hallway ahead of Mifune, Shiori pulled Kanzo aside and whispered into his ear. "Kanzo, that man from before, you know the one." Kanzo, understanding her allusion to the shady Konohagakure shinobi, nodded in understanding. "Don't let him near my son."

Still disturbed from her encounter and anxious to clear her mind for the following day, Shiori retired to bathe while Rika guarded their designated wing. As soon as she secured the corridor, however, she began to grow uneasy. Without a thorough inspection of their apartment, Rika could have overlooked vulnerable points of entry. Deciding it better to guard Shiori from within the apartment, Rika flagged two samurai patrollers down to man the door while she assumed her new post from within. As she slid open the heavy panel, light from the hallway illuminated a sole figure pouring tea at the living room table. Alarmed by the intruder, Rika quickly drew her kunai in preparation for attack. "State your business here, Danzō Shimura."

"How do you know I haven't already accomplished it? Judging from the color of my tea here," Danzō peered into his cup, "I've sat here for about three minutes now. You're clearly no sensor shinobi. You were completely oblivious to my presence this whole time while your mistress sat completely naked and defenseless two rooms away. I find it hard to believe Hanzō let his wife loose with such a poor excuse for a bodyguard."

"That's pretty tough talk from someone with a bullseye carved on their face," Rika studied Danzō's scar as her face hardened into an angry smile. "While you're here, maybe I'll tear you a new one."

"Inept _and_ crass. The residents of Amegakure must be as barbaric as I feared. How has Shiori endured your company this long? It looks like I can ask her myself," his attention turned to a new feminine figure entering the room.

As soon as Shiori had heard Rika's voice, she had risen from her bath and reached for her robe, only to freeze in her tracks once a lower, masculine voice responded. Danzō had infiltrated her apartment the very moment she was most vulnerable. Incensed by his underhanded and successful attempts to unnerve her and concerned that conflict could erupt, Shiori donned her silk robe and exited her bathing room to disrupt the standoff. "Danzō, what is the meaning of this?"

"Your guard practically welcomed me in by the front door. I recommend you find a replacement before someone with less honorable intentions stumbles upon you in the bath."

"Answer my question or leave," Shiori's nose wrinkled in disgust.

Danzō took a slow sip of his tea, unaffected by her efforts to expel him. "It's been nearly twenty years since we last spoke. Wouldn't you like to catch up?"

" _Not_ in my bathrobe."

"There will be time for that later then," Danzō took one last sip and rose from his seat. "Your brother asked me to deliver this," he reached within the fold of his coat and handed Shiori a sealed letter.

Snatching the letter from his calloused hands and lifting the seal with one swift flick of her nail, Shiori's eyes darted over the contents. As soon as they reached the bottom line dotted with a bolded ryo character, her brows furrowed in anger. "This is a bribe."

"Not at all. This is a generous offer of reparation for the damages Amegakure has incurred from Konohagakure in exchange for your immediate departure and promise not to interfere with this summit."

Shiori balled the letter in her fist without a moment's hesitation. "No amount of money could ever be a worthy exchange for Amegakure's rights. Konohagakure's continued indifference to their promises is nothing short of an attack on our freedoms." With a small burst of chakra from her hands, Shiori incinerated the letter to ashes in her palms.

As Danzō watched the display, a darkness spread over his features. "You know, when I placed those seals on you, I left them reversible in hopes you'd one day use your gift for the sake of your homeland."

"The homeland I knew and loved was a lie. This incident," she motioned to the ashes littering the floor, "as well as countless before it have proven that time and time again."

"If that's true, then the Shiori I knew and loved was also a lie. I once thought your love and loyalty towards Konohagakure rivaled my own. How foolish of me," Danzō turned from her and headed to the door. "I will relay your refusal to your brother and reiterate your need to hire better security. If you continue to resist our advice, you'll need it."


	26. Chapter 26

When sunrise began to warm Shiori's room, she knew her time was up. _Well, maybe she had time for one more_. Pulling a loose sheet of blank parchment from the stack beside her and pricking her index finger with her quill, Shiori placed the paper on top a paper seal she'd flattened on her tea table. Flowing chakra into her palms and smearing a single drop of blood onto the parchment, she formed her fingers into the now well-practiced signs. _Ram, monkey, bird, dog, boar_. As it had the dozen times she'd practiced before, the paper vanished. The blonde exhaled with relief. Reverse summoning required precise chakra control, her greatest weakness and a skill she had not practiced for many years. To ensure the day would go smoothly, Hanzo had practiced this with her for weeks. If this morning was any indication, all would go according to plan.

As Shiori reached to withdraw the seal from the table, she was alarmed to see the parchment she had just vanished reappear. Unlike before, however, this parchment contained her husband's crude but beloved handwriting. " _Have faith. You are ready_."

Satisfied at last, Shiori summoned Kanzo to the room. "Are arrangements complete?"

"Yes," her husband's right hand confirmed. The shoulders of his wool trench coat glittered with crystal snow betraying his early morning foray into the capital city. "At your command, our coach will depart with the decoys. I've secured the first leg of our new route in a comfortable merchant's carriage. We will be one of many leaving the city in a trade caravan later this morning."

"Excellent work," Shiori nodded in approval. "But I hope all these precautions will prove unnecessary."

"With three kage and their henchmen on our tails, it may not be enough. Shall we see?" he offered her his arm.

"We shall see," Shiori accepted and allowed the jonin commander to escort her to the mediation room. Arriving well before the other parties, Shiori was able to choose a seat at the far end of the table and closest to an exit should she need it. Gradually, each party entered and claimed their seats with hushed voiced and stern faces, all previous joviality cast off from the night before. Many, including her brother and Danzo, now wore heavy scowls with resolute expressions. As Shiori feared, these men had not come to compromise; they had come to have their way.

As their host, Tokugawa, entered last, all rose until the Land of Iron's commander took his seat opposite Shiori's. "My lords, it is an honor to both welcome you to my nation and to be asked to mediate this discussion. Before we proceed, I recommend each party have the chance to state their hardships. At this time, I request that you each refrain from pointing fingers. Once we each have an understanding of our neighbor's concerns, then we can move forward with concessions and agreements."

"That's very diplomatic of you, Lord Tokugawa," the Earth Daimyo stood, slapping his palms against the table, "but there is no need. Konohagakure and Sunagakure know what my land suffers, for they are the root cause of every evil that befalls us. I recommend we jump right to the heart of the issue—Konohagakure's need to enforce their definition of 'balance' by hording the bulk of the continent's best resources and its most dangerous weapon—the nine tailed biju."

"I second this concern," the Wind Daimyo raised his hand in solidarity. "How has this 'balance' benefited Sunagakure? For decades now, my people have been forced to scavenge the desert wasteland for food and water with nothing to defend them but the weakest biju. Our natural resources are few, and our leverage the least threatening of all the great nations. Konohagakure and Iwagakure refuse to acknowledge these disparities because they fear the size of our armies. Both have refused us aid time and time again."

"Why should we not?" the outraged Earth Daimyo spat. "You colonize our border and siphon off our streams and forests already. Each year we lose precious acres of territory to your squatting."

"Which brings me to my _next_ point of contention," the now red-faced Wind Daimyo retorted, "your slaughter of my people on _my land_ whenever you feel they encroach upon your precious border."

"Gentlemen," Shiori urged in her most imperious tone, "I request that you respect our host's wishes and refrain from blaming one another. From what I understand, Iwagakure and Sunagakure share similar concerns: border security, constrained resources, and wariness towards Konohagakure's strength. Lord Ayame or Lord Hokage, do you have any concerns you would like to address?"

"If you are referring to the senseless and methodical murders of my nation's merchants and shinobi, then yes," a bored-looking Ayame responded, his eyes studying his nails rather than regarding his sister. "The Land of Fire is practically under siege by assassins. Other than that, I must protest the sheer amount of time we waste in these repetitive and unnecessary summits. As for the biju, remember a day once existed when Konoha controlled them. Were it not for my ancestor's generosity, you would not have them at all. Furthermore, Sunagakure and Iwagakure choose their territories generations ago. Konoha has no reason to atone for your ancestor's poor taste in real estate. If you find yourself in need of more resources, Konoha is always receptive to trade for your boulders and cacti, provided you cease slaughtering our tradesmen."

"Receptive?!" the Wind Daimyo yelled in disbelief. "That's an understatement! Konohagakure is making a windfall from trade! The tariffs you impose are exploitive, _especially_ on goods transported through Iwagakure," the man shot his neighbor an accusatory glance. "Further debt to Konohagakure is unsustainable and out of the question."

"How unfortunate for us," Ayame yawned. "Those tariffs are used to—"

"To what exactly?" the Earth Daimyo's brows furrowed angrily. "To fund your _spies_? Don't think that we don't routinely find them snooping about!"

"The spies we commission are only in response to the increasing number of yours we have found in our midst and the dangers posed to our merchants and travelers," Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Sandaime Hokage spoke for the first time. "Over the past few years, I have seen an increase in the number of Sunagakure spies as well."

"I'll cite the same reasoning," Sunagakure's Kazekage retorted. "We too have observed larger numbers of Iwagakure and Konohagakure spies in our territory."

"Have any of you proof to substantiate these allegations?" Tokugawa asked.

"Amegakure can confirm this," Shiori responded. "We also have observed record numbers of spies traveling and skirmishing along our borders. The majority are agents of Sunagakure and Konohagakure, as Amegakure's grasslands provide an easier route than through Iwagakure."

"You expect us to credit the hearsay of a housewife?" Ayame glared at his sister contemptuously. "I don't suppose you've witnessed this for yourself."

"But I have," Shiori corrected coolly, "and among the bodies we've recovered have been several career spies I remember from my youth in Konoha."

"I have not attended your past mediations," Tokugawa interjected, "but it sounds like your issues with one another are long standing and well understood."

"Precisely," Ayame agreed, "which is why these mediations are pointless. Nothing has changed since the First Shinobi World War, and nothing save for an equally drastic event will cause change. Therefore, if Iwagakure and Sunagakure are indeed so discontent, let them declare war."

"That is what you will ultimately force us to do if you continue to refuse to make concessions," the Tsuchikage threatened quietly.

"Konoha will make no concessions," Ayame remarked, unmoved. "Even if we did, it would never be enough to satiate your greed. Your demands would not cease until my nation's economy and forces lay in shambles."

"Brother," Shiori appealed, "war is an extreme solution to a problem that can largely be solved through a few economic agreements. Why resort to war when you can simply lower a tariff? It leads me to think that this is not an issue of maintaining 'balance' between Konoha and its neighbors, but rather insuring Konoha does not weaken under your watch. As always with you, it boils down to public opinion. I know you have come here prepared for war should things not go your way, but there are other ways to cement your legacy."

Taken aback by his sister's appeal, Ayame was momentarily silenced. _This was precisely why he had wanted her out of the picture_. She, like their father, could not see that the best legacy he could leave Konohagakure was a complete end to these neighboring conflicts, not some trade treaty. Anything short of war would only result in an ephemeral peace staving off an inevitable conflict. _Wouldn't it?_

Sensing Ayame's doubts, Danzo interjected to strengthen the Fire Daimyo's resolve. "Concede now and be branded a coward? Out of the question."

"Sometimes," Shiori countered, "changing your opinion in light of new considerations is the bravest decision of all. Brother," she directed one final plea towards the conflicted daimyo, "I urge you to make concessions now while there are no penalties to do so."

"Lady Shiori," Danzo responded once more, "as my lord already stated, Konoha will make no further agreements, come what may."

Fury erupted as Shiori's violet eyes clashed with Danzo's cold stare. Danzo Shimura had manipulated her brother his entire career to bring about this war, an endeavor he no doubt hoped would propel him to militaristic stardom. "Come what may," she repeated. "But, if we are all honest with ourselves, we must admit that war has already come. Perhaps not to your soil, not to Iwagakure's soil, and not to Sunagakure's soil, but it has to mine. Whenever your forces clash, my people are caught in the middle. Whenever shots are fired, my villages burn in the crossfire. If you three nations are to continue these skirmishes, it's only fair that your people suffer the consequences of your pigheadedness as well. Therefore," Shiori withdrew a parchment from her robes, "Amegakure officially declares war upon the three great nations present."

"Unreal!" the Wind Daimyo roared above the erupting commotion. "Your husband is indeed strong, but one man cannot take on three nations alone."

"We shall see," Shiori thrust the parchment forward.

"Lady Shiori, retract this proposal," the Hokage ordered. "If even one nation signs, it plunges us all into war. License for one nation to invade Amegakure is effectively license to invade every nation it touches."

"Then I suggest Konohagakure reevaluates its stance before plunging us all into the Second Shinobi World War."

The room fell silent as Ayame exchanged glances with his counsel. After a lengthy, pregnant pause, Ayame snatched the declaration from the center of the table, violently engraved his signature, and cast the document down upon the table before him. "You are a greater fool than I ever suspected, Sister."

"And a _traitor_ ," Danzo whispered.

One after another, the nation's kage and daimyo signed the grim document before returning it to Shiori. _This was it_. Calming her nerves while pretending to inspect the signatures, Shiori lifted the document before her. " _Ouch_ ," she hissed as the sharp parchment sliced the sensitive flesh of her index finger. "Paper cut."

 _If you think that hurts, you'd best prepare yourself for far worse_ , Danzo seethed.

Ignoring the outraged expressions around her, Shiori proceeded to sign slowly, allowing time for a thick drop of blood to trickle down the quill and land upon the document. As the red liquid made contact and stained the page, a previously invisible seal began to appear. _Now_. Standing suddenly and channeling chakra into her palms, Shiori performed the requisite seals of the reverse summon technique in rapid succession. To her instant relief and gratification, the declaration of war vanished before her eyes. For a brief moment, the room looked on in surprise as all present struggled to understand what had just happened.

The only one present aware of Shiori's limited shinobi capabilities, Danzo guessed the terrible truth first. "A reverse summon . . . this mediation is a trap!" Turning from left to right, Danzo felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. With all three kage and daimyo distracted at the summit, the three great nations were not suspecting and not prepared for an attack from the notably absent Sanshōuo no Hanzō.

"Quite right. Our forces are stationed at each of your borders awaiting my signal. I suspect they'll begin their invasion at any moment. Now if you'll excuse me, my lords," Shiori rose from her seat to depart, "I suggest you hurry home while you still have homes to return to."


	27. Chapter 27

"Rika, dear, this is hardly comfortable," Shiori's voice echoed from within her pine box. "Not to mention highly unnecessary. If we were under pursuit, we'd know by now."

"Better safe than sorry," Rika muffled. "And what safer place is there than a coffin when someone wants you dead? It's the last place they'd ever look. Admit it; it's genius."

"I will say it's a creative means of body guarding."

"Just try to relax and get some rest. We should be there in an hour or two."

"Sleeping within these confines is impossible. And morbid." Crossing her arms in impatience, Shiori settled into the cushion of her coffin. For the last stint of their journey, Shiori and Rika had parted ways with Kanzo and Kyo as the latter duo made their way back to the capital and Shiori and Rika made their way to the frontline. Though fraught with peril, Shiori had not once questioned her decision to join Hanzō's camp; at least, not until Rika appeared with their means of conveyance. A _hearse_ was a far cry from the comfortable merchant's carriage that had brought them south. But Rika did have a point. And her idea _was_ admittedly clever. Besides, after their encounter with Danzō two nights before, Shiori didn't want Rika to doubt herself or her abilities. Last she saw him, Danzō was a contender for Hokage. And doubtless, over the twenty years of their estrangement, he had only grown stronger. While Rika was formidable, few possessed the requisite skill to counter the Leaf shinobi.

Deciding not to complain further and allow her companion to rest, Shiori turned her thoughts to the current turn in international affairs. Because her party had not paused for rest or news since fleeing the mediation, they had heard precious little surrounding Amegakure's first strikes. Though Shiori had faith that Hanzō's first foray into Konohagakure would be a success, the tables could turn at any minute once the Hokage returned to defend the Land of Fire. Though pointless, speculation consumed Shiori's thoughts until the unassuming hearse reached their final destination: Amegakure-occupied Hiji.

Initially suspecting the hearse had arrived to remove the dead from the battlefield, upon inspection, the Amegakure shinobi were surprised and amused to find their village head's wife and her body guard buried inside. Helping Shiori from the vehicle, the excited shinobi recounted their exploits as they guided their lady to Hanzō's counsel's quarters. Though unable to disentangle their jumbled stories, Shiori was relieved to gather that the first push into Konohagakure had been a resounding success.

Outside Hanzō's adopted headquarters, Hiji's former town hall, shinobi buzzed in and out with reports and escorted prisoners. The building's cramped interior was no less busy as Amegakure shinobi pressed against one another clamoring to report to Hanzō. Unfazed by the commotion, Hanzō stood behind the head desk informing his captains of their next moves. Once his eyes fell upon Shiori, he stopped midsentence. "We're through here for now. Leave us," Hanzō ordered his noisy men and counsel to vacate the small room. Bowing swiftly to their lord and lady, the shinobi quickly filtered from the room, closing the door behind them. Once alone, Hanzō rubbed his fatigued temples with an amused grunt. "Shiori, care to explain why you arrived here in a hearse?"

"I've been _buried_ in work. And you?" Path now free from human obstruction, Shiori walked into her husband's firm embrace. Melting against Hanzō's strong chest, she relaxed to the steady, comforting rhythm of his heart.

"As you see around you, not many of us are buried. I cannot say the same for Konoha."

"How about the north and west? Hatsu and Kisa?"

"All according to plan. Hatsu has established our stronghold in Iwa," Hanzō motioned to a map upon the desk. Around the Amegakure and Iwagakure border line, small, purple pebbles had spilt over from the plains into the Land of Earth.

"I'm not surprised, but how did he manage it?" Shiori asked with some wonder. Iwagakure's formidable stone mountains provided the nation with natural fortification. For centuries, the land had remained unpenetrated.

"He advanced with a small force, luring them out onto the Ame plain. Once Iwa's forces had been overextended, he called for reinforcements to pinch them off at the border and surrounded them. Iwa was crushed. Afterwards, with no shinobi nearby to protect the border, he seized the cities with ease."

"How does he intend to keep them once the Tsuchikage returns?"

"He doesn't. His next move will be to feign defeat and retreat back to Amegakure to engage them again on the plains. In the meantime, he's trapping just about every object in sight to slow Iwa's advance once they retake the cities. He's also arranging for a few surprises on the plains in preparation for Iwa's return."

"Trapping the cities? I'll instruct the maids to be ultra-vigilant when cleaning his apartment," Shiori grimaced. "It sounds like he's waging a war of accelerated attrition."

"We all are. With our forces outnumbered, it's the only way. We have to bleed the great nations as quickly as possible to cripple them."

"And how about the west?" Shiori directed her attention to the line of purple pebbles leading into Sunagakure. "What are our friends up to in the desert?"

"Securing wells in the steppes to water our forces and cavalry as they make their way to the capital. But word arrived this morning that the Kazekage would like to broker peace, so further attack may be unnecessary for now."

"Suna is throwing in the towel already? It would be to their benefit, though. The farthest from Konoha, they stand the most to lose if they try to attack by sweeping through us or Iwa. An alliance would be in their best interest. But would it be in ours? Would you take it?"

"It depends on the conditions. I do not intend to form a permanent alliance with them, but if they help our forces dent Konoha, a temporary truce is worth considering."

"I agree. How about Kisa? Was there any mention of her in the report?"

"She is fine, and her cavalry is doing well. Suna cannot protect everything, everywhere. But the cavalry can potentially attack anything, anywhere. Suna finds it unnerving."

"I'm relieved, but sending her to the field still distresses me. At fifteen, she's still a child."

"She is _my_ child, and she is more than ready."

"That she is," Shiori conceded. "And what about you? Where to after Hiji?"

"We will continue our advance into Konoha," Hanzō pushed his section of purple pebbles deeper into Konohagakure's interior. "I aim to take the capital as soon as possible. In the meantime, I've deployed two teams to infiltrate the Village Hidden in the Leaf."

"To engage the Hokage?"

"No. To eliminate the nine tails jinchuuriki," Hanzō's brows furrowed. "I won't let the Leaf resort to using that weapon. Ultimately we will rid the nations of all jinchuuriki to keep those powers out of the wrong hands."

"Mito Uzumaki," Shiori frowned, recalling the kindly old redhead. "She is a woman I have always admired greatly. Is there really no other way to keep the jinchuuriki in check?"

"None as effective as this, and we cannot afford to do anything in this war by half measures." Sensing his wife's spirt fall at the bleak prognosis, Hanzō cleared the map and folded it aside. He had already forced his wife into treason against her home nation and would only make her feel worse with his plans to crush her childhood idols. "But enough of this. Come with me," he offered his arm. "I have something to show you." Dismissing their guards, Hanzō guided Shiori beyond the occupied town center and into a more peaceful district. Residents completely evacuated, the only sounds audible were the songs of birds and the chirping of summer cicada. The couple walked in companionable silence for a ways, appreciating the scene's serenity. "How is Kyo?" Hanzō asked at last.

Shiori sighed. "Shocked by the turn in events at the mediation, upset that we kept him in the dark, and angry that I shipped him home with Kanzo. When this is all over, we'll have to make it up to him."

"We will. When this is over, his training will become my first priority. If all goes according to plan, this war will leave him with a greater legacy to shoulder. This way," Hanzō tugged, guiding Shiori to the right down a wide, landscaped side street. "I have an early anniversary gift for you."

Once the end of the lane came into view, Shiori laughed in surprise. "Our wedding temple! You _shouldn't have_. So _this_ is why you chose Hiji as your first stop."

"It's a town of both tactical and sentimental importance." Halting suddenly, Hanzō scrutinized the temple through squinted eyes. "This is the right temple, isn't it?"

"Yes! How could you not know that?" his wife laughed in bewilderment.

"I was paying closer attention to you than to the building."

" _Very_ smooth," Shiori patted his forearm rewarding him for his response. "Can we go in?"

"Lead on," Hanzō encouraged.

Pushing open the heavy, wooden doors with ease, Hanzō ushered his wife inside. Without a room full of wedding guests, the space appeared larger than before. The curtains and wall hangings that decorated the room appeared the same, and judging from the musty smell, had likely not been cleaned in the twenty years of their absence. On the alter, a few flies hovered over a bowl of abandoned, overripe fruit. Shiori didn't remember the temple to be opulent, but today, it appeared especially dingy. "Hanzō, most women wouldn't be pleased with a musty old temple as their anniversary gift. But fortunately for you," she squeezed his arm with a bright smile, "I am not most women."

"I am very fortunate indeed," Hanzō stopped them a few feet before the alter steps to look into his wife's eyes, suddenly serious. "But are you? Was this the life you wanted?"

"It was not the life I expected," Shiori lowered her head in thought, "but all I ever wanted was a life of purpose. Had I stayed in the Leaf, I doubt I could have lifted a finger without my husband's permission, let alone draft laws or build orphanages. Marrying you freed me to be who I wanted to be. So yes," she concluded, "this was the life I wanted. A life that could make a difference. And what's more, _you_ are more than I could ever have dreamed." Lifting his hand in both her own, Shiori placed a kiss on the rough skin she'd first touched nearly twenty years ago.

The action flooded Hanzō with even more joy and warmth than it had the first time on their wedding day. "Come to think of it," Hanzō laughed lowly, "I never thanked you for that last time we were here. Your social graces spared us all an awkward situation."

"And I never thanked you for standing up to my brother for me afterwards. We've made a good team since day one."

"We have," he agreed, "but I won't ask you to stay in Konoha for the sake of supporting me. Once the Hokage returns, things will become even more unpredictable and dangerous."

"I'll stay," she insisted. "And with Rika protecting me, we'll be out of your way."

"Somehow I doubt that," Hanzō's brows furrowed as he recalled the green haired kunoichi's countless antics. "But I could use you here. Our next push is after nightfall this evening. I would like you to look over the plans since you are more familiar with this part of the country than any of the officers."

"Then let's head back now," Shiori urged, noting the reddening sky out the temple's single window. "You have a war to wage, and nightfall will be here before we know it." Casting one last backward glance at the temple as they departed, Shiori whispered a silent prayer of gratitude for a life even better than the one she wanted.


	28. Chapter 28

When the cold, heavy rain at last let off around ten o'clock PM, the drenched band of Konohagakure forces took heart. Now that the deafening pelt faded to a soft drip, each shinobi could hear their neighbor sigh in relief, for this sign, like so many others, signaled the end of Amegakure's war was near. At the outset, they had been so cocky. How could one small nation stand against their own, let alone two others of comparable strength? They never questioned their victory. And they still didn't. But now, after nearly a year of heavy bloodshed, they questioned the cost. After many more humbling defeats than Konohagakure would like to number, the Land of Fire had at last awakened to the fact that the little Land of Rain was a worthy adversary and that if they failed to strategize against it, they risked losing more than their pride.

Turning the tables so late in the game had not been easy. Even before they had so much as lifted a finger to fight back, the damage had been done. Amegakure's sudden invasion and occupation of their homeland had shattered their confidence. The name Sanshōuo no Hanzō, once inspiring fear and awe, now struck the Leaf shinobi with debilitating terror. And smelling Konohagakure's fear, Sunagakure and Iwagakure had used every tool in their arsenal to exploit it. Finally, after many months of ceaseless struggle, Konohagakure had finally managed to expel the invaders and at last set foot upon Konohagakure's soil.

Tonight marked one of the last battles they would need to wage on Amegakure's soil. Their target: a village garrison of great strategic importance. Crouching in the thick forest brush outside the village, the shinobi force waited for nightfall and better visibility. As the end of the rain signaled both, the Konohagakure general, Hirohito motioned to the three front teams. Nodding in understanding, the nine shinobi departed to infiltrate and destroy village.

Farther back from the front, three shinobi crouched together and exchanged dubious glances. "This doesn't feel right. What's Hirohito thinking? There's got to be loads of civilians in that village. This is going to be a massacre!"

" _Quiet, Jiraiya!_ " the shinobi's pale-faced teammate, Orochimaru, hissed. "It's no worse than what they've effectively done to us. It's shameful that the Leaf has lost so much to this puny nation. Finally, we're about to put them in their place and give them a true taste of despair."

"As much as I hate to agree with the idiot," their third teammate, Tsunade, sighed, "he has a point. We can't blame innocent people for the decisions of their government. Hirohito has crossed a line this time, and when the Third hears about it, he won't be pleased. For now, I'm just thankful we weren't selected for the initial infiltration."

"Same here," Jiraiya agreed. "Besides, it looks like our friends on the inside are making quick work of this. I haven't heard an alarm or sensed any disturbance whatsoever. Maybe they'll manage to seize the garrison with minimal bloodshed, and later we can force the villagers to evacuate."

"I'm beginning to wonder if there are any villagers there in need of evacuation," Orochimaru's snake-like eyes narrowed in suspicion. "There's something wrong here. No matter how stealthy our forces may be, I find it hard to believe no one has noticed them by now or sounded an alarm. Even if shinobi don't leave a trial, dead bodies do."

"Hirohito's cupping his earpiece," Tsunade said, pointing to their commander, "so he must be getting some message from our comrades on the inside." For several moments, the three focused their attention on the shinobi general as he processed the incoming message. Slamming the small speaker closer to his ear, Hirohito rocketed violently to his feet and signaled the motion to retreat.

" _Retreat?!_ " Jiraiya's jaw dropped in disbelief. "But why? They can't possibly have an army hidden in that tiny village, and there's at least a hundred of us still in the forest!"

"They don't _need_ an army," Orochimaru tensed in alarm. "In this war, the Third gave us flee-on-sight orders for _one man_ , which could only mean . . ." Tsunade and Jiraiya's eyes widened in horror and understanding before Orochimaru could even finish his sentence. The Third had directed everyone to steer clear of one man, and that one man was _Sanshōuo no Hanzō_.

And apparently, _he was waiting for them_.

"Let's get out of here!" Tsunade shouted, encouraging her teammates to their feet. Before the two men had risen halfway, however, the three were rocked back to the ground by a violent tremor. "What on earth?!" Bracing themselves against the ground and readying their kunai, the trio turned to face the epicenter of the quake. Further into the woods than any of their eyes could see in the darkness, shouts began to erupt, followed shortly by a shinobi stampede fleeing back towards the village.

With a forceful tug, Jiraiya pulled one of the panicked shinobi to his side. "What's going on back there?!"

"I don't know," the man stuttered in response, "but—" The shinobi's final words were suddenly cut off by the tremendous crash of a felled tree. Regaining his terror anew, the shinobi pulled free of Jiraiya's grip and fled as the outline of an enormous creature arrested the trio's attention. With great effort, the ovalesque beast raised itself on its hind legs, bracing its titan-like body with webbed hands against two tree trunks. Soundlessly, the creature lowered his head and opened its cavernous mouth, releasing its breath with an ominous exhale. The thick plume of gas that emerged quickly swallowed up and silenced the forest, including all those unlucky enough to have straggled behind.

"Hanzō's salamander, Ibuse," Orochimaru confirmed. "Let's go. Traveling these woods is no longer an option."

"But where to?" Tsunade gasped as they began to run. "If Hanzō's in the village and Ibuse's patrolling the woods, that only leaves the plain beyond the village. Since Hanzō was clearly expecting us, he probably has an army already stationed there waiting for us. We'll be sitting ducks!"

"If the rumors I've heard are true," Jiraiya said, clenching his teeth, "we'd do better running into an army than Hanzō."

Exchanging solemn frowns of agreement, the three pressed on in the direction of their fleeing comrades. Bypassing the village, they raced on towards the plains. Casting a sideways glance at the scorched earth beneath them, Tsunade could see that this ground was no stranger to battle. Luring them here had been Hanzō's plan all along. Amegakure now held the home field advantage, and almost as if sensing the turning tide, the sky once more began to pour. As the forces raced blindly onward, a mass of objects in the distance became visible. The weather worsening, a bolt of lightning flashed above them briefly, but long enough to confirm Tsunade's fears: Hanzō's army stood ready and waiting. "How many of them are there?"

"A lot more than us," Jiraiya said, gritting his teeth. "Taking them head on without a plan isn't going to work."

"I wonder if they plan to take us on at all," Orochimaru observed. "They don't seem concerned that we're racing towards them. But it also doesn't look like they're preparing to attack." Sure enough, the silent army remained still and unflinching as the Konohagakure forces raced towards them. However, as the trio drew nearer, it became apparent that the army was becoming smaller and smaller as it receded into the distance. "They're retreating, but why?"

Seconds later, a second bolt of lightning cracked above them, directing their attention to a massive, falling object from the sky. All gaped in astonishment as the creature from the forest reappeared in midair, though this time, not alone. For a brief moment, the shinobi could see a solitary figure atop the beast's head before vanishing into thin air. Ibuse, mere moments before crashing into the earth and burrowing into the ground, opened his massive jaws once more to bathe the battlefield in a plume of poison. Wasting no time to confer with one another, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru scattered, becoming separated in the evacuating stampede. Believing herself safe, Tsunade turned to survey the damage. Even with the purple haze still permeating the field, she could sense that their loss from that one attack had been great. Up to a third of their forces were likely dead or would be soon as the toxins flooded their systems. And without an antidote, there was nothing she could do. _And I call myself a medical shinobi_ , she laughed bitterly. If Konohagakure was going to continue waging wars this way, they needed a stronger and better equipped force of medical shinobi. All around her, comrades dropped like flies. Perhaps she could save a handful, but it would be a drop in the bucket. If she survived this war, she decided, she had an idea or two to run by the Third about medical shinobi reform.

A burst of sudden shouts behind her whipped her back to reality, reminding her how unlikely surviving this war had just become.

Swiveling towards the origin of the shouts, Tsunade arrived just in time to witness a group of shinobi encircled by a linked chain. As the chain drew them closer together, the shinobi were suddenly ensnared within a bubble of paper bombs that ignited in quick succession. Leaping from the explosion, the massive figure of Sanshōuo no Hanzō quickly leapt to the next group of shinobi, doing away with them in rapid succession. Against him, all techniques appeared futile. A hapless Uchiha, activating his sharingan in preparation for a genjutsu attack, found himself suddenly blinded by a paper bomb. Next, a Hyuuga gearing up for a soft fist technique was suddenly deprived of his fists by a cruel slice of the Rain leader's kusarigama. Both mesmerized and terrified, Tsunade stood petrified as she watched the fierce leader annihilate all in his way.

Once Hanzō's kusarigama crashed down upon a familiar head of long, white hair, Tsunade at last regained her ability to move. Adrenaline surged through her as she watched Jiraiya prepared his Lion's Mane ninjutsu to defend himself, only to suffer Hanzō's blow before completing the technique. While Hanzō raced on to his next victim, Tsunade rushed to the staggered Jiraiya. " _JIRAIYA!_ Are you hurt?!" Her teammate merely groaned in response. Gently, Tsunade lowered him to the ground to inspect the wound. "He clipped your side. Had it not been for your hair, you would have been disemboweled. The cut looks deep, but not life threatening. I can patch you up for now, but you need serious help as soon as possible," she said, laying her hands upon his waist to perform her medical jutsu.

"How is he?" Orochimaru's voice called from behind.

"Orochimaru, where the _hell_ have you been?!" Tsunade hissed between clenched teeth.

"I've been a little too busy strategizing a counter attack to stand around and gape like _you_ ," Orochimaru retorted.

"Knock it off, both of you," Jiraiya grunted, feeling well enough to sit up. "To stand a chance of making it out of here alive, we're going to have to work together. Can't you see? Hanzō's taking advantage of the chaos to cut us down one by one. Remember Hiruzen's bell training? Three are stronger than one."

"But Jiraiya," Tsunade frowned, "are you feeling well enough to fight?"

"I'll manage. Orochimaru, any ideas on how to beat this guy?"

"I have a few, so listen carefully."

* * *

With one final slice of his kusarigama, Hanzō paused to enjoy the newfound quiet. The battlefield was silent now, save for the pelting rain. _Calling off his forces had been the right decision_ , he determined. He was more than strong enough to take on this small army, and by taking care of it himself he protected his men from further loss of life. Regretfully, he admitted that this war had lasted longer than he could afford. He no longer possessed the foothold necessary to occupy Konohagakure, nor the forces necessary to regain it. Ending the war with terms most favorable to Amegakure would now become his top priority.

Glancing behind him, Hanzō surveyed his three remaining opponents. One he thought he'd already killed. The other two must have hidden from him in the shadows. _No matter_. He would make quick work of them like he had every other opponent in this battle. "Ibuse!" he called to the burrowed salamander. "Let's finish this."

As the beast sprung from the earth, Hanzō leapt to avoid the falling debris and take his place on his summon's head. Below him, the three stalwart shinobi gazed up at him in challenge. _What a shame that none survive to witness your bravery_ , Hanzō thought ruefully. Deciding to honor their courage with quick deaths, Hanzō attacked with a barrage of explosive kunai. As the three attempted to dodge, he pursued them with continued assault until they landed into his next trap. Starting with the girl, Hanzō activated the hidden explosive tags around her feet, causing them to encircle her legs. Before detonation, however, Hanzō watched with surprise as her teammate pulled the girl to safety with his hair, shielding them both from the blast. " _What?!_ ," Hanzō's eyes widened in intrigue. _So this is how he survived my attack earlier_.

Distracted by the shinobi's unusual technique, Hanzō suddenly found his body restrained by tight coils. No, not coils. _Snakes_. Out of the corner of his eye, Hanzō could see the third shinobi summoning the reptiles from his sleeves. _If the plan was to immobilize me, that must mean the others are preparing to attack_. The whistle of needles flying through the air confirmed Hanzō's suspicion. The white-headed shinobi was now using his hair offensively, firing dart after dart of spine-like hair towards him. _Clever_ , he acknowledged, _but useless_. With a small burst of chakra, the Rain leader teleported himself and Ibuse out of range.

Reappearing this time closer to the three shinobi, Hanzō watched in satisfaction as the hopelessness of their situation dawned upon their faces. To his surprise once more, however, the tenacious white-haired shinobi gritted his teeth and launched himself for yet another desperate attack. Choosing not to react, Hanzō allowed Ibuse to toss the man aside with a heavy thwack of his tail. With a heavy _thud_ , the shinobi landed upon the muddy earth and struggled to raise himself for a time before helped to his feet by his female teammate. Uncertain how to proceed, the three stared him down, gasping to catch their breath.

Hanzō had to give them credit. Not only had they managed to survive this long, but also, they refused to run away in the face of certain defeat. It had been years since he'd witnessed such pluck from mere foot soldiers. _It's courageous men and women like these we need to change the world_ , he realized. Making up his mind, he addressed the trio for the first time. "I predict Konohagakure shall emerge victorious from this battle. Therefore, I shall let you three live," he decided.

"We don't want your sympathy!" the white-headed shinobi barked. "We can still fight!"

"Jiraiya, _stop!_ " the female shouted in effort to silence him.

"You three are very strong," Hanzō marveled. "You survived even _this_ battleground . . . I, Hanzō, hereby christen you the Three Sannin of Konoha. In exchange for your lives, I would know your names."

The three glanced at one another in hesitation before sounding off.

"Jiraiya."

"Tsunade."

"Orochimaru."

"Then Jiraiya, Tsunade, Orochimaru, return to your country. Use your intelligence to question the corrupt order around you and your strength to change it. Now go."

Not needing to be told twice, the three shinobi turned their tails and fled, glancing back only briefly to catch one last glimpse of the man who had just changed their lives forever.


	29. Chapter 29

Adjusting her night vision googles to their highest setting, Shiori watched the entrance to the smoldering village with tense concentration. When her husband finally emerged and launched himself onto the battlefield, she released a captive sigh. " _Good_ ; he's out. Now, how about everybody else?" Making their way through Hanzō's stand-by army, Shiori and Rika at last reached the crowd of silent, concerned villagers. Fortunately and thanks to Kanzo's sensing expertise, their western forces had been able to predict the Konohagakure attack early enough to aid their escape. While it was now apparent that the skeleton crew Hanzō had hand-selected to remain with him had perished, the rest, it appeared, were safe and sound.

"Rika," Shiori directed, "poll the crowd. Make sure everyone's loved ones are accounted for." As Rika made her inquiries, Shiori surveyed the field. Unfortunately for the legion of soldiers watching in eager anticipation, there were no lights to illuminate the battlefield save for a stray fire technique or a metallic spark. Each light a comforting assurance of her husband's wellbeing, she turned her attention next to the village. The garrison and those buildings near it were ablaze, but with any luck, the resuming rain would halt the flame's progress and save three quarters of the village. Behind her, the villagers did not share her optimism. Their eyes followed the steady flame, fearful it would consume not just a fraction of their village but the entirety of their livelihood.

At length, Rika reappeared with a nervous elderly woman by her side. The woman's eyes darted from the village to Shiori in obvious concern. "It sounds like everyone's here, but this lady may have noticed something."

"Please tell us anything you know," Shiori encouraged.

"My lady, I'm neighbor to a shinobi couple, the Tsukuda family. They have a little girl, about ten years old, Ami. The mother and father remained with Lord Hanzō, but Ami was evacuated with myself. I noticed half an hour ago that I haven't seen her since we left. I fear she may have returned to the village to help. She's a kunoichi in training herself."

Shiori tried unsuccessfully to mask a worried frown. "Thank you for this. What does the girl look like?"

"Long blonde hair, blue eyes. I hope I'm mistaken, but the crowd here is not large, and no one else has seen her."

"We'll do what we can, m'am," Rika said reassuringly with a tip of her straw hat.

Distancing herself from the crowd, Shiori motioned for her body guard to follow. "Let's have Kanzo weigh in on this. I want to be dead sure this woman is correct before I waltz into that furnace." Though Shiori had long since retired from her six month kunoichi career, the war presented her with innovative new opportunities to exercise her rusty kekkei genkai. "If Kanzo detects life, I will retrieve her."

After a brief search, the two tracked down Kanzo on the front line. Explaining their errand, Kanzo redirected his sensing prowess from the field towards the village. "I believe there is someone still in the garrison. It's small, but too large for most animals. That must be your girl."

"Rika, fetch a mask, oxygen, and a fire blanket," Shiori directed swiftly. Although her kekkei genkai protected her skin from fire, it did little to protect her lungs from smoke and ash.

"I'd advise against this rescue," Kanzo cautioned. "That garrison is stocked with explosives, and the second the fire reaches them, the remains of that building will be blown from the face of the earth."

"All the more reason to be swift with this," Shiori said, already beginning to don her requested equipment. "Kanzo, if you direct me by earpiece, I can find her much faster." Deciding further protest was both useless and a precious waste of time, Kanzo summoned a small band to accompany them to the edge of the town. Once sure that her equipment was properly fastened, Shiori headed into the village alone. Even from this far away, the fire heated the air enough to make Shiori sweat. _Or perhaps that was just from fear_. Every second, Shiori was painfully aware of Kanzo's warning. Though well past nightfall, the distant flames cast a sinister red light over the ghost town storefronts, abandoned stalls, and lifeless figures strewn about the ground. While the glittering reflection of their forehead protectors gave away their village allegiance, Shiori tried not to look too hard lest she stumble upon a familiar face from either side. Suddenly anxious to leave this place, Shiori increased her pace until she reached the mouth of the fire.

"Kanzo, I'm about to enter the garrison," she reported. "Inside, should I head left or right?"

"To the left. She should be midway down," Kanzo's voice echoed in her ear. "I will tell you if you overshoot her."

Shiori stepped through the molten curtain and into an opaque darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she could begin to make out the garrison's large common room. Once orderly workshop tables and chairs lay toppled in disarray from the struggle. Here too, bodies littered the floor. _But fortunately none belonged to a little girl_.

Above, a loud, heavy buckling sound startled her from her investigation. Fearing the building was no longer stable, Shiori looked to her left. The wall opened into two hallways, one twice the size of the other. Choosing the larger of the two, she sprinted to the left, only not soon enough. A fiery rafter from the common room ceiling fell to the ground with a loud crackle, its blunt end crashing down upon Shiori's upper back. Wind knocked from her lungs, Shiori fell painfully to the ground.

"Shiori, you're close. The girl is just ahead of you," Kanzo's voice crackled through her earpiece. "Shiori, do you copy?"

Propping herself up with one elbow, Shiori gasped for air. After an eternity of breathlessness, she was finally seized with a fit of coughing. " _I'm alright_ ," she wheezed. "I'm alright."

"What's going on? Are you sure?"

Before responding, Shiori was suddenly distracted by a door to her right. From her position on the floor, she could see that the gap beneath the door had been plugged with fabric. _Perhaps the girl was inside and had blocked gap to prevent smoke from creeping under the door. Well done!_. "I'm sure. And I think I've found her," she coughed.

Dragging herself to her feet with difficulty, Shiori rested against the door. The pain in her back was excruciating and sent her into another coughing spasm. " _Ami!_ " she called at length, "Ami! Are you in there?" Hearing no response, she turned the door knob and pushed, only to find that whatever used to plug the door had also blocked it from opening. Smart _and_ strong. She had to hand it to this girl. Though unfortunately in Shiori's current condition, it made rescue efforts all the more difficult. Pressing her weight into the wood, Shiori at last pushed the door in far enough to step inside.

Though this room like all the others smoldered with heat, the outline of the doorstop strewn before her caused Shiori to shiver. It was the body of a man her age, a fatal wound to his side. As Shiori pried the door open further, light from the hallway revealed the second body of a woman. And judging from the little girl curled by the woman's side, _these were Ami's parents_. While her heart broke for the little girl, Shiori wasted no time wrapping her in the fire blanket and lifting her into her arms.

"I've found her!" Shiori winced. "Meet me at the village gate with more oxygen." Though Ami had protected herself from smoke, some inhalation was unavoidable. She needed fresh air as soon as possible. Covering the girl's head with a protective arm and propping it over her stronger shoulder, Shiori picked their way carefully out of the garrison and into the village street. As they moved, the sound of Ami's shallow breaths caused her to sigh in relief. _The girl needed medical attention, but she would live_.

Once the two reached a safe distance from the flames, Rika, Kanzo, and several of Hanzō's men flocked to their side. "Oxygen!" Shiori ordered, skipping all pleasantries. Spreading the girl upon the ground and wrapping an arm around her back, Shiori fastened the mask to Ami's face and watched anxiously for any sign of improvement. Now that she had time to study the girl properly, her heart throbbed painfully. Ami was about the same size as her son, Kyo, with long blonde hair tied in loose pigtails. Her purple kunoichi outfit, now dirtied in ash, looked handmade, probably by her mother's hands. This girl had come from a loving family. A loving family, Shiori realized, that _her war_ had taken away.

After several minutes of oxygen, Ami's eyelids began to flutter. As a coughing spasm began to wrack her small frame, her eyes shot open to reveal a pair of ice-blue irides. Flailing widely from left to right to orient herself, Ami's coughs were soon replaced by powerful wails as memory returned. " _MOM! DAD!_ " she screamed, attempting to wrestle free from Shiori's grasp. "I have to go back!"

Shuddering from the pain of the wriggling child, Shiori handed her off to Kanzo. "It's too late for that, Ami. We need to worry about you now."

Despite finding herself lifted in Kanzo's arms, Ami still resisted violently. "They _killed_ my parents! I'll _destroy_ them! _I'll destroy them all!_ " Whether from physical or emotional exhaustion, the girl at last fell limp, her cries subsiding to quiet sobs.

As Kanzo carried off the girl, Shiori remained a moment in contemplative sorrow. At the outset of this war, Amegakure's morale had been so high. Villages and clans flocked to their side, excited by the prospect of fending off invaders once and for all. However, as the war droned on, families lost their loved ones. Youth lost their lovers. And children lost their parents. High morale had been corrupted by hatred, and even once this war ended, that hatred would survive and fester until the next war. " _What have we done?_ "

"I don't know," Rika said, misinterpreting Shiori's musings, "but it looks bad. The back of your vest is fried. What happened?"

"A rafter," Shiori said, suddenly remembering the pain in her back. "I think I need to head to the medical tent too."

"Wrap your arm around my shoulders, and I'll take you. According to Kanzo, Hanzō should be finishing up soon. He doesn't sense many people left on the battlefield."

Grateful for Rika's chatter to distract her from her pain, Shiori listened attentively until Rika deposited her on a medical cot in a curtained off room of the empty medical tent. "Thanks to Hanzō taking care of all the dirty work, it doesn't look like the medic shinobi are busy tonight. I'll fetch a doctor."

"But tell them I can wait," she insisted. "Ami's condition is more precarious than mine." After Rika's departure, Shiori attempted to rest upon her cot. Her back sending a surge of pain in protest, she rolled over on her stomach. The new position was no better. Unable to lie down, Shiori braced herself for a long, sleepless night.

"Care to tell me," spoke a deep, gruff voice, "how you become injured while I'm the only one fighting?"

With a jolt of surprise, Shiori turned excitedly towards her room's entrance just in time to see her husband dip under the curtain. "Hanzō!" she smiled, relief momentarily distracting her from pain. "Welcome back," she slowly lifted herself, "and congratulations on your victory. This will give Konohagakure something to talk about for generations. An entire army . . . and all by yourself! If I didn't know you, I could hardly believe it."

"All but three," Hanzō corrected. "I spared their lives in exchange for impressing me."

"And in order to ensure some still lived to tell the tale?" Shiori raised a playful brow.

"That too," he admitted. "My god woman, what happened to you?" Hanzō's eyes narrowed in concern at the sight of her singed vest. "And where the hell are all the doctors?"

"I instructed them to see to the girl first."

"What girl?"

"A girl from the village returned to the garrison to help her parents. A shinobi couple. They were killed in the attack, and the girl was caught in the ensuing fire. While I was recuing her, I'm afraid I didn't manage to dodge a falling rafter."

"Little fool," Hanzō seethed at the absent child. "I'll see to you myself then." Unzipping and discarding the ruined vest, Hanzō proceeded to gently peel off Shiori's turtleneck and unclasp her bra. Once bare before him, he stood for a moment in silent assessment. "You have at least one fractured rib. And a bruise the size of my head," he brushed his fingertips lightly over the inflamed skin. The cool, feather light touch of his fingertips over her bare skin felt both soothing and electrifying, sending powerful sensations up her spine. "You'll need to stay here tonight," Hanzō decreed, rummaging through the room's medical supplies for an ice pack and bandages.

"No," Shiori protested. "I'd rest much better with you."

"Not if I can't find a shower," Hanzō said motioning to his drenched and bloodied clothes.

"That is a lot of blood," Shiori conceded. "I hope none it is yours."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged, securing the ice pack to her back with bandages before taking a seat next to her. As he rested, physical and emotional wariness from the war creeped over him, a further reminder that he could not afford to continue this war. _Especially_ when it put his loved ones at risk, Hanzō regarded his injured wife. "I expect this defeat will prompt the Hokage to make us an offer to end this war, so tomorrow we will wait for his message."

"If he offers," Shiori clasped her husband's hand, "will you accept?"

"We shall see."


	30. Chapter 30

Even without her back aching, her cot squeaking, and her nurses prodding, Shiori knew she was in for a sleepless night. Nevertheless, the thoughts which plagued her were indistinguishable from nightmares. Both she and Hanzō realized this war needed to end. But what if the kage and daimyo disagreed? How much longer could the Rain continue? On the other hand, peace brought perils of its own. If Hanzō conceded defeat, would the people crucify his regime? His family? An immanent end to the conflict was likely to usher in a peace more tumultuous than the war itself.

At daybreak, weary and paralyzed from both pain and powerlessness, Shiori attempted to change the course of her thoughts to the child beside her. Once stable, Ami had been transported to the cot beside her own, the redness around her eyes suggesting that she had cried herself to sleep not long before. Now, her face assumed a mask of peaceful oblivion. _If only children could act as serene as they looked after waking_ , Shiori thought ruefully, suddenly reminded of her own.

The thought of them caused her a fleeting pang of guilt. She had seen little of her children this past year as the war pulled them in different directions. Granted, even when home together she rarely saw them outside meal times and, when they were younger, bedtime stories. In truth, Shiori loved her children, but liked them most as they neared adulthood. Until that time, she left them to their own devices and to act like children in the company of other children. But the past year of constant concern for their safety had caused her maternal instinct to reassert itself with a vengeance, and with no child of her own in sight, it settled upon little Ami. Perhaps she was powerless to affect the outcome of this war, but she could still do plenty to help _her_.

Ami awoke some fifteen minutes later, though only opened her eyes for a brief moment before closing them tightly and rolling to the side to muffle her quiet cries. Though the little girl would doubtless prefer to grieve in private, both solitude and Shiori's time were in short supply. _Grieving would have to wait_. "Ami, are you awake?"

Though the girl did not answer, her sniffling stopped.

"I am sorry for your loss," she continued. "Do you have another relative to live with? A place to go?"

Ami rolled over slightly and cast her a glance through puffy, pink eyes. Unable to speak without choking over her words, she silently shook her head from side to side.

"There is an orphanage in the city where you can live and continue your training. As soon as I'm physically able to return, that's my next stop. You're welcome to come with me."

"You're the one who saved me yesterday," Ami realized. "Are you hurt?"

"A little. I'm not as good at dodging as I once was. And you? How do you feel?" The tears that formed in Ami's eyes indicated Shiori had asked a sensitive question. "That was thoughtless; forgive me. I doubt you're in the mood to chat."

"I'll be fine," she said lowly, "but _they_ won't. I'll make them pay for what they've done."

"Before the war," Shiori chose her words carefully, "I used to feel the same way. Hatred forced my hand to fight. But I've found that even though thousands have died, my feelings haven't changed. Instead, those feelings have only infected the next generation, _your_ generation. So now, I've decided to resolve my feelings a better way."

"How?" Ami frowned dubiously.

"I'm looking for it. And I hope you'll do the same."

"Rise and shine!" Rika's voice interrupted as she pulled aside the curtain and entered the room carrying two cups of earthy, barley tea for the patients.

"I'll shine for you, Rika dear," Shiori flashed her body guard a dazzlingly insincere smile as she accepted the tea, "but today, I rise for no one."

"Not even the Hokage? He and the Fire Daimyo are coming this afternoon."

"So soon?!' Shiori nearly sprayed her tea. "That does change things. Amegakure will need to have their terms at the ready. And I'll need to get dressed."

"I can help you with one of those things," Rika offered her arm to help support her lady stand. "And how about you, little one? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No thank you," Ami stared sadly into her teacup.

"Hey," Rika crouched until she was eye level with the little girl. "I know what you're going through. I've been there myself. Just know that you're not alone here. I found out pretty fast that you find new family in unexpected friends. Hang in there kid." With an encouraging smile, Rika plopped her oversized, straw hat on the girl's messy head. "I'll check on you in a little while."

"Wait!" Ami floundered under the flopped hat, readjusting it until she could see the two women. "M'am, thank you for saving me. I just realized I don't know your name."

"You're welcome," Shiori cast the girl a warm smile. "And call me 'Shiori.'"

* * *

As dawn faded to dusk, restlessness overtook Hanzō's camp. Everyone waited in tense anticipation for the Hokage and Fire Daimyo to arrive, unsure whether their coming brought good or bad tidings. A collision of the kage and their village head was as likely to cause peace as it was to escalate the war. Realizing this, Hanzō locked himself away with counsel to set upon a solution for peace. After several lengthy hours of discussion and debate, the Rain leader excused his advisors for a short period of peace and rest before the anticipated arrivals.

Lounging carefully against her pillow throne, Shiori watched her husband pace about the tent with concern. No matter what transpired at this meeting, the war, they realized, would only end in disappointment. At the worst, Konohagakure would continue the war until Amegakure surrendered out of necessity. At best, the Land of Fire would place heavy sanctions on the country's trade. Though her husband's face was concealed within his mask, Shiori could sense his wide, straight mouth sharply downturn at the edges. "Love, come sit," she patted the cushion next to her. "You dizzy me with your pacing."

After a moment's hesitation, the large man joined his wife's side with a loud exhale.

"It's not like you to be nervous," Shiori frowned, rubbing his forearm. "What are you thinking? Is it about the meeting, or something else?"

Not accustomed to addressing or even analyzing his feelings, Hanzō's brows furrowed in concentration as he deliberated how to convey his thoughts. "For over thirty years . . . everything I've done, every move I've made has been for one sole purpose."

"Unification of the shinobi world."

Hanzō nodded, his eyes staring past the ground beneath them. "This war has made clear to me that will likely never happen in my lifetime."

Shiori agreed. But not because she doubted her husband's strength. Nearly ten years her senior, Hanzō was now at the cusp of fifty, but still very much in his prime. Though lines of age had begun to form around his features, they only highlighted his wisdom and experience. If Hanzō failed to unify the world, it wouldn't because he wasn't physically capable. It would be because the world simply wasn't ready. "Are you disappointed?"

"I feel like I should be," Hanzō wondered aloud, "but I am not. Half of me is angry. How can I simply let this dream go after years of fighting? Is it an admission of weakness? Part of me doesn't want to let go, but only because I've clung to this dream for so long."

"And your other half?" Shiori asked, giving an encouraging squeeze. "What does it tell you?"

"That circumstances change. People change. And _dreams_ change. In my youth, I convinced myself that nothing short of the world would make me happy."

"Have you contented yourself with less, then?" Shiori smiled, relieved to find her husband's spirits not shattered by the turn in events.

"No. My younger self was right on that point. I did require the world. But the world," he turned to her at last, "was not what I expected it to be." His village, his family, and his wife _were_ his world. The shinobi nations could burn for all he cared as long as they were safe. And with Amegakure's complete unification still evading his grasp, he felt suddenly free to shed his concern for the greater world and focus solely on his people. _The sooner this war ended, the sooner he could focus on what was truly important_.

"Then let's leave unification to the children," Shiori said, glowing in support of his realization. "You've equipped them with strength, a vision, and a head start. Now let's end this war and give them a taste of peace."

"I'm sorry to intrude," a voice muffled from outside the tent, "but our company has arrived," Kanzo said, parting the tent flap for himself and Rika to enter. "Should I direct them here?"

"No," Hanzō ordered as he helped his wife to her feet. "We will negotiate with them outside for all to see."

"Understood."

"And Rika," Shiori added, "if she is well enough, could you fetch Ami? I would like her to witness this."

Everyone in Hanzō's camp dropped what they were doing to ogle at the oncoming Hokage. Many who had lost friends and family to the Hidden Leaf's ruler didn't bother to conceal their expressions of hatred and contempt. Others, witnessing firsthand the kage's prowess, balked to the back of the camp to wait out the meeting and whatever conflict erupted from it. Behind the kage marched a small army of Leaf shinobi who were no doubt similarly disgusted and afraid to be there. Above them all, the shinobi carried an ornate sedan chair, no doubt carrying the Fire Daimyo himself. Shiori watched with interest as shinobi lowered the box to the ground. The man who emerged appeared much older than her brother should have been. His once bright, orange hair was now muted with grey, and the stern frown lines along his mouth appeared much deeper than before. Shiori lifted her hand to her face in immediate concern. _Had she aged as well?_

"Hanzō, Lady Shiori," the Sandaime Hokage, Hiruzen, acknowledged as he approached, "you've proven your point. Let us put an end to this pointless bloodshed."

"Then state your terms," Hanzō ordered, motioning the kage to a large table laid ready with maps and scrolls. "Amegakure is prepared to fight to the bitter end, no matter what that may be."

"But I'm sure you're already aware, Lord Hanzō, that this is a war you cannot win. Your alliance with Sunagakure was short lived, and Iwagakure is ready to work with us to fight you if the war continues. You have the resources to continue, but can you afford to? Konohagakure, I admit, has suffered greatly as well. We too can continue to fight, but the daimyo and I have decided it is not worth the cost. Therefore, in exchange for Amegakure's admission of defeat, we are willing to offer favorable terms."

"State them."

"The Land of Fire would not impose sanctions. We only ask for compensation for repairs to our villages marred by battle."

"And more importantly," Ayame interjected, "we require a means of traveling through Amegakure. Before you reject this out of hand, consider, with an authorized means of travel through your country, Konoha won't have to bother you with those 'rogue trespassers.'"

Shiori stared at her brother in amazement. Both her brother and late father had made it a policy not to speak to the Rain leader as demonstration of their disapproval the alien regime. The fact that Ayame had voluntarily spoken was a concession in itself, and perhaps, Shiori dared hope, and indicator of newfound humility. "I agree," she said, "and have already drawn up a proposal for you. This red line here," she pointed to a map before her, "parallels our boarder with the three great nations. If these terms are favorable to you, we will build this road and allow you supervised access." The plan, if approved held great promise for Amegakure. Villages and industry could spring up around the road, providing new jobs and homes for their people and services for weary travelers. And with construction starting right away, many would be able to provide for their families as soon as the war ended.

Ayame nodded in approval. "I find this acceptable. Shiori, it's good to see you at last looking out for your homeland."

"I never stopped, Ayame," Shiori glanced thoughtfully up at her brother. "I never stopped, but sometimes we have to look beyond our homeland for the greater good. Like us, Ame and Konoha are siblings that fight from time to time, but are still part of a larger family, the shinobi world. This war was not a vendetta to destroy you, brother. It was to force you to think beyond yourself."

For the remainder of the meeting, Ayame didn't respond but stood silently by until prompted to sign the peace treaty. Before retreating to his sedan chair, however, he glanced back at his sister for a moment as if to say some final word or parting, but thought better of it. Sparing only a moment to ponder over the curious interaction, Shiori quickly returned her attention to little Ami. "I realize this is a sudden and drastic decision for you, but I hope you'll return with us to the city. I have a son around your age in need of a teammate," she said, offering her hand.

"Thank you, my lady," Ami said quietly, shyly accepting her hand now fully aware of her rescuer's identity. As the two pressed onward away from the battlefield and war-scared earth, Shiori made a silent promise to give this girl and those like her a future far more promising than they had ever dreamed.


	31. Chapter 31

"Another stack for you, _General_ ," Nora smirked, dropping an additional stack of documents by the edge of Hatsuharu's already paper-logged desk. Without so much as a glance at the new arrivals, Hatsuharu shoved them off the edge, the cascade missing Nora's toes by an inch. "Hey, watch it! And don't expect _me_ to clean up this mess," she glared. "You know, most would consider your promotion a _privilege_. I would be a little more grateful if I were you."

"This promotion is no privilege," the newly minted general glowered down at the papers below him. "Paperwork is a prison, the deadlines on these forms more inescapable than iron bars." While Hatsuharu had gladly accepted heightened responsibility during the war, he did not welcome the actual promotion that came afterwards. Becoming a general placed him under the oversight of both the public and his father, precisely what he machinated to avoid. Remaining in the establishment's good graces required effort and took nearly all time away from his private endeavors.

A soft rap at the door was suddenly followed by the entrance of the towering Yemon. Spying the litter of papers covering the floor, he kneeled with a heavy sigh and began to collect them. "How about less playing and more working, you two?"

"How about you show up to work on time?" Hatsuharu retorted, irritably.

"He wouldn't have to work two jobs if you'd give us a raise," Nora snapped. "Yemon has a lot more expenses on his hands now that he's on his own."

"You moved out, Yemon? A wise decision. What hen house needs a rooster when it already has this loud chick?"

"He _moved_ because his _head_ was too tall for the _ceiling_ ," Nora hissed.

"Money is no issue," Yemon corrected. "I volunteer at the clinic for free," the medic said, placing the collected stack back on the desk. Though the war had ended, Yemon found that for his profession, it was just beginning as floods of wounded veterans squatted in hospital waiting rooms for treatment. "It won't happen again. By the way, there's a group of people waiting outside to see you."

Hatsuharu raised a curious brow. "Nora?"

"They aren't on your list," she shrugged. "You have five other appointments first. I told them that once you'd finished, then we could pencil them in."

"Au contraire," Hatsuharu threw down his pen. "Send them in."

"But what about everyone waiting on the list?" Nora asked, outraged. "This is hardly fair!"

"But far more interesting. I'm overdue for an unexpected appointment. Send them in," he repeated.

With a nod, Yemon opened the office door and motioned for the three strangers to enter. At his signal, the three individuals, two men and a blue-haired lady, stepped inside. Though all three wore Amegakure forehead protectors, they dressed in heavy, dark grey cloaks with chin high collars instead of Hanzō's regimented uniforms. Hatsuharu puzzled for just a moment over their identity before his eyes lit with excitement. "Indeed this _is_ a welcome surprise! Lady and gentlemen, how can I help the Akatsuki today?"

"General Hatsuharu," the orange-headed male stepped forward. "First, allow us to congratulate you on your promotion."

"Thank you . . . Yahiko, was it?"

"Yes. My friends, Konan and Nagato, and I have an update for you regarding the curse mark you inquired about."

Nora and Yemon groaned in unison as Hatsuharu shot up in his seat. If there had been any benefit to the war at all, it had been the untimely postponement to the now infamous "Operation Tongue" that had led to countless awkward encounters and Yemon's near arrest masquerading as a dentist. Ever since, the siblings had made a pact never to mention the mission to Hatsuharu lest he regain interest. _So much for that idea_.

"Ah yes!" Hatsuharu said, poorly concealing his piqued interest. "What have you found for me?"

"A source," Yahiko replied. "Two weeks ago, we discovered the curse mark on a member of Konoha's Anbu gathering intelligence in the city. The Konoha shinobi took his own life before we were able to discover a means to remove the seal or transport him to you."

"We've found individuals infiltrating _multiple_ organizations. How do you know the Konoha Anbu is the source and not just another targeted organization?"

"We weren't sure," the red-headed male, Nagato, spoke, "until we found a second Konoha Anbu bearing the same seal last week. He escaped our grasp and fled, presumably back to Konohagakure. Three of our members pursued and have not returned. After eight days, we don't expect them to." The three frowned in sadness at the reference to their missing comrades as a heavy silence engulfed the room.

"Besides," Konan broke the silence, "if they were simply infiltrating the Anbu, why would they send them to Amegakure? From what we've observed, these shinobi take great pains to blend in with the infiltrated organization."

Hatsuharu leaned back into his chair, clasping his hands in thought. "During the war, I encountered many Anbu, but none who bore the seal. If what you say is true, than perhaps these Anbu shinobi have a special mission, or even more plausible, belong to a special branch of the Anbu."

"What would you like us to do now?" Yahiko asked.

" _Wait_. I need to think about this and do some digging of my own. I will send for you again once I've decided. Thank you for this most fascinating report."

The three nodded in acknowledgement, but made no motion to leave the room. "General, before we leave, there's something I have to ask of you," Yahiko said.

"Compensation for your missing comrades, of course," Hatsuharu reached into his drawer for his checkbook.

"No, not that," Yahiko waved his hands. "We could never place a price on our friend's lives. But we would like formal recognition from your father. They dedicated their lives to protect his rule, after all."

Hatsuharu stared at the Akatsuki leader, all former traces of levity draining from his face. "Of course. I'll tell you what. Keep digging. Find the leader of this Anbu sect if you can. And once you do, we'll have something that will make my father truly grateful and willing to endorse you." From the sideways glances the three exchanged, it was clear it was not the answer they had hoped for. Even so, the three bowed to the general and his teammates and took their leave.

After the Akatsuki had traveled a safe distance from his office, Hatsuharu released a pent up sigh of frustration. "Enlisting their help was a mistake."

"What makes you say that?" Nora asked, surprised. "I think they've done well. They sure found a lot more than we did."

"They're too expensive. Formal recognition is a price my father will be unwilling to pay."

"Why not? They've successfully countered Kandachi time and time again. They're helping rebuild destroyed villages. _And_ they're popular in the countryside," Yemon pointed out. "What does Lord Hanzo have to lose by recognizing them?"

"Control," Hatsuharu stated simply. "Groups like them come with their own agendas, whether they support my father or not. I know you'll be thrilled to hear me say this, but let's make it a priority to find this Anbu leader before they do."

* * *

 _He was right_ , Danzo read the missive with grim satisfaction. Someone within Amegakure _was_ onto him. While occasionally the spies he sent to gather intelligence within the Rain were discovered, they had never been trailed. At least, _not until now_. Evidently, an unknown enemy had followed his latest spy back to Konohagakure. And according to this latest message from Root headquarters, that hidden enemy now had a face. The team of Amegakure shinobi had been successfully captured, the note disclosed. Danzo whispered a silent prayer of relief, grateful not only that the three had been captured, but also that they had been captured by Root and not the Anbu or Leaf police. While Root had technically been disbanded years ago, the Third Hokage's guilty conscious turned a blind eye to his friend's organization, allowing it to prosper under the Anbu's nose.

As soon as he was able, he would return to the Hidden Leaf to interrogate the trespassers himself. But that would have to wait. First, he had another Amegakure enemy to address. Tucking the note into his vest for safe keeping, Danzo rapped on a door he had not touched in ages. "Come in," the Fire Daimyo's voice called from inside. Opening the door, Danzo immediately had to avert his eyes from the blinding light that shined through the open windows. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, Danzo gazed around in surprise at the once familiar room. It was hardly recognizable. A new portrait of Ayame's wife hung beside his desk. The desk itself, once covered in maps and plans, now bore stationary and agricultural reports. As Danzo's eyes scanned the desk, they were drawn to the daimyo's trembling hands. Noticing this, Ayame hid them upon his lap. "How may I be of service to you, Danzo Shimura?"

"Good afternoon, my Lord," Danzo bowed stiffly. "I'm here because my sources inform me that you've decided to invite . . . a _controversial_ guest to your upcoming birthday party."

"Danzo, it's my party and I'll invite whomever I want to."

"You _cannot_ invite her," Danzo's voice rose. "Were she to even to set foot on Konoha's soil, she should be arrested as a traitor."

"I believe the war is sufficiently behind us that we can move on from such drama."

"Using the Land of Iron's summit as a distraction for Amegakure's invasion and her subsequent actions in the war itself are unpardonable. If you forgive her now, Konoha will appear _weak_. Shiori can never set foot in Konoha again. Not after she humiliated us."

"Humiliated _us_? Or humiliated _you_ , Danzo? I'm afraid I don't share your sentiments." Danzo's usually bloodless cheeks flushed in rage. To say that Shiori had humiliated him was an understatement. She had refused his hand. She had thwarted his plans. She had tricked him. He could almost assassinate himself for sparing her all those years ago. To Danzo, Shiori was more than a source of humiliation. She was an open wound that hemorrhaged frustration and disappointment.

"Shiori and I may rarely see eye to eye," Ayame continued, "but I will give her this; my sister knows how to choose her battles. I, on the other hand, chose war over a few trade concessions which I ultimately agreed to anyway. You should learn from her, as I did. Do not pick this fight with me. Shiori will be invited, and if you have no more to say, leave me in peace."

There was no more to say. But before Danzo left, he studied the Fire Daimyo with fierce intensity. His shaking hands, grey hairs, and deepening wrinkles confirmed Danzo's suspicions. His now uncomfortably soft and welcoming office told the same story. This daimyo was weak and had been weakening for some time. And if Konoha's enemies ever caught wind of that weakness, they'd descend once more upon the country. With the daimyo and hokage unwilling to stand firm, Root would have to in their place. Mind now made up, Danzo bowed once more and headed home.

Suspecting that Ayame would refuse his advice, Danzo had already prepared himself for potential action by issuing more spies into Amegakure to gather intelligence on Hanzo's family, their whereabouts and activities. Having two of those spies discovered was a setback, but perhaps one he could transform into an opportunity. Arriving back at Root headquarters, he asked to see the three prisoners immediately. Or in this case, _their remains_.

"My apologies, sir," a Root shinobi reported. "They would not surrender information easily. We were forced to apply . . . _extreme_ measures to make them comply. We were able to gather some intelligence from them, however, before they perished."

"My forgiveness will depend on how much you were able to learn from them," Danzo said, a grim frown crossing his features.

"We learned much. They are from a private organization called the Akatsuki. It sounds like a pacifist organization, unaffiliated with the Hanzo regime but in support of it. We learned that they are also responsible for the disappearance of our last agent."

"Then by now, they likely suspect the Anbu," Danzo stroked his chin in thought. _This was bad_. If the Akatsuki supported Hanzo's regime, it was only a matter of time until they reported to the village head that Konoha was already breaching its peacetime agreement. Afterwards, it would only take a brief investigation before all fingers pointed towards him. _Damn_. The last thing he had time to contend with right now was a rogue organization. "This Akatsuki knows too much. We need to eliminate them. Tell me more about the organization."

"They are small. Thirty members at most, though they have countryside support."

"That's too many to eliminate quietly." Danzo lapsed into silence as he studied the bodies of the three unfortunate Akatsuki. Though unofficial, the group appeared well organized. Each member wore a matching cloak and carried a red hilted katana. In order to pass this deep into Konohagakure, they had to be skilled as well. And lastly, they were well liked by the people of Amegakure, but _not_ , Danzo realized, by the government. Or at least, not well enough for formal recognition. If anything, their popularity could potentially pose a challenge to that of Amegakure's head, Sanshōuo no Hanzō. _There was his opening_ , he smiled. He needed to get rid of the Akatsuki, and Hanzo would do it for him.

"Save their bodies, their clothes, their weapons, everything. And fetch me three Amegakure uniforms immediately. I leave for Amegakure with all of it at nightfall. You will accompany me."

If the Root shinobi found the request strange, he didn't show it. "Sir," he nodded before vanishing to retrieve the items.

The Akatsuki would soon be dealt with, but first, they would help _him_ deal with Shiori.


	32. Chapter 32

Shiori awoke with a start. Confused, her eyes darted swiftly about the room. A quick inspection assured her that all was well. Her husband's faint snoring beside her and the comforting neon glow outside their window grounded her to reality. She was _not_ falling, though her heart's heavy pounding suggested it thought otherwise. Sitting up, Shiori rested her head against the glass pane to cool her temples. Judging from the silence outside it was still early, though it would not be long before Amegakure awoke and her household with it. As her eyes fell to the streets dozens of stories below, the violent sensation of vertigo returned forcing her to look away. Nightmares of falling had plagued her for years since her freefall from Onmoraki years ago, and only a thin sheet of glass prevented her from repeating the incident.

Hanzo stirred. Awakened by his wife's movements, he drowsily opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Early," Shiori said, laying her head back down upon his bare shoulder. "Too early to get up."

"Good. Then I have time for _this_ ," he gripped her arms, repositioning himself over her. With one practiced tug, he loosened the bow of her silk robe and slipped his hand in to explore her soft flesh with his course pads.

"Isn't there always?" She forced her lips into an encouraging smile, still too shaken from the midnight phantom to muster her usual excitement.

"What's wrong?" Hanzo asked, lifting his hand from her breast to caress her face. After over twenty years of marriage, she should have known that her feigned expression would not deceive him.

"It's nothing; just another falling nightmare," she wrapped her slender hands around his waist, urging him lower.

"You've had that dreams for many years."

"Which is precisely why it's so _foolish_. What have I to fear when I have you to keep me from falling?"

"Everything. Because here on top, we have nowhere to go but down with the slightest misstep. Your dreams aren't foolish. They reflect our fragile reality."

"That's funny," her smile warmed, reassured and amused by her husband's typical sermonizing, "I don't _feel_ like I'm on top, but I hope you'll drive me there," she slid her smooth hand under the band of his briefs, cupping as much of him as she could in her small palm.

Hanzo shuddered and released a trembling exhale. Allowing her to caress him as long as he could bear it, he suddenly arrested her hand and lowered his head to leave a trail of kisses down her abdomen. "I'll take you as high as you'd like to go. First the moon," his lips stopped just shy of her thin, silk undergarment as he repositioned her legs over his shoulders, "and then the stars."

* * *

The stars faded all too soon as light slowly filtered through puffy rain clouds. Exchanging their usual kiss and head pat, Hanzo and Shiori parted ways to tend to their responsibilities. Her earlier unease replaced by much pleasanter sensations, Shiori's features relaxed into a smile. Her grin only widened at the sight which greeted her downstairs. In the foyer, her children, their friends, and Rika chatted and mingled before parting ways for the day.

In the corner, the foundling Ami stood armed with a blowgun and straw hat. Rika crouched beside her and pointed to the tagged dart between her fingers. A wind user herself, Rika was likely thrilled to find a pupil who could appreciate and use her techniques. Rika was not the only one pleased. Since coming to the city, Ami had proven herself a talented kunoichi and perfect fit for Kyo's team.

And Kyo agreed. _Most of the time_. From the looks of things, today would not be their best. As Ami excitedly soaked up all of Rika's attention, Kyo glared at her from across the room. Beside him, Yemon inspected a darkening bruise on the boy's forearm—likely the result of getting in the way of one of Ami's powerful, wind-propelled punches. Shiori sighed. Where human children could be cruel, shinobi children could be cruel _and_ dangerous.

Noticing his mother's entrance, Hatsuharu climbed the stairs to join Shiori and escort her descent. "All dressed up this morning, I see. And where might you be off to? No—wait—don't tell me. You're headed to the Fashion Police to report my new uniform. The Advisory Board on Etiquette to outlaw direct drinking from milk cartons."

"Actually, I'm off to Mothers of Incorrigible Children Anonymous," she played along, "though I may stop by those meetings on the way home. As I've told your father, onesie pajamas are not appropriate uniforms, and if I hear any report of you drinking from milk cartons, I'll have your head." While Hatsuharu's style and opinions differed radically from her own, of Shiori's three children, she understood and loved him best. Kyo was still too young to be her confidant, and Kisa identified solely with her father's side of the family. Looking about the room, Shiori noticed her absence for the first time. "Has Kisa already left?"

"With the cavalry," Hatsuharu confirmed. "She isn't expected to return until tomorrow evening."

"And yourself?" Shiori asked, suddenly suspicious. "Are you and your company working outside today as well?"

"Yes. The team and I have some . . . field research to conduct."

"Say no more," Shiori sighed. "I'm sure I'd rather not know what you're up to. Rika," she called to her bodyguard signaling it was time to go.

After retrieving her blowgun from Ami and giving the girl's head a final ruffle, Rika joined Shiori's side. "Ready. Would you like to take the sky trail?"

Shiori shuddered. Though now after years of practice she could usually navigate the stories-high glass walkway network that connected the towers, today she hesitated. _Perhaps she hadn't fully shaken her nightmare after all_. "Let's walk the ground level. It has been far too long since I brushed elbows with my people."

Outside, a team of three shinobi accompanied Shiori and Rika, a necessary security precaution when traveling on foot. Shiori stuck close to her guards as throngs of pedestrians crowded the market stalls to make their purchases before the daily rain. Overhead, dark purple rain clouds appeared ready spill their contents any moment. A now seasoned meteorologist herself, Shiori could detect the sweet scent of an oncoming storm.

Suddenly, a small explosion erupted from a stall half a block away. Shouts rung out as a thick smoke engulfed the area. In the midst of the chaos, some market goers vanished into the plume to investigate while most fled the scene. Cautious, one of Shiori's guards ordered them to stop and motioned for a teammate to accompany him. "Lady, stay here. It looks like one of the vendor's gas heaters exploded, but we'll inspect the area just in case of foul play."

Obediently, Shiori remained behind with Rika and the third guard. "What do you think happened?" Shiori asked, straining her eyes to see through the dense smoke. She was not afraid. A single stall in Amegakure's marketplace hardly seemed like a major terrorist target. But she _was_ suspicious. This smoke seemed unnatural for a simple explosion.

"Not sure," Rika shrugged, "but I'm going to do some investigating of my own." Rather than disappear into the fog herself, Rika followed the trail of fleeing citizens and disappeared into an alleyway before Shiori and the remaining guard could protest. Shiori shook her head and sighed. Rika was a talented, if unorthodox bodyguard. There was always a method to her madness, and by the end of the day, Shiori could usually make sense of the woman's illogical actions. Therefore, Rika probably had a very valid reason for abandoning her that moment. _Probably_.

As the plume crept closer, Shiori's guard moved them farther back. "Follow me this way, my lady," the guard motioned her towards an alley. "This way, the smoke should roll past us."

Shiori followed him, turning only briefly to confirm his theory about the smoke. When she returned her attention to the guard, she covered her mouth in a shocked gasp. The man lay at her feet, gruesomely severed in two. Realizing the perpetrator could be anywhere, Shiori's head swung wildly from left to right before a large hand clamped over her mouth. "You will follow me," a low, chillingly calm voice ordered.

Shiori struggled and turned just enough to catch a glimpse of an x-shaped scar on the man's chin before she felt the sharp point of a kunai at her back. _Danzo_. Discovery of her kidnapper's identity was only further cause for alarm. "This is not the place for pleasantries," he said, increasing the kunai's pressure against her back. Though protected by layers of fabric, Shiori felt a sharp sting. "Move."

Unable to do anything other than comply, Shiori allowed him to force her through a maze of shortcuts and alleys. Each step felt like a violation as he intimately navigated her through her city. Like every move in his life, he had planned all aspects of this stunt—the distraction in the marketplace, how to isolate her from the guards, and their escape route. Now, what did he plan for _her?_

At length, Danzo ushered them inside a desolate tower. Inside, tarps and insulation hung from the naked ceiling. A network of water pipes, a modernized version of Shiori's crude fire safety invention, connected the rooms and floors of the empty building. Like so many structures in Amegakure, this one had been under renovation until the war halted its progress.

Assured they were alone, Danzo lessened his grip. "What is the meaning of this, Danzo?!" Shiori hissed as soon as she was able. "I'm sure you realize that your unauthorized presence here violates Amegakure and international law. Release me this instant."

"Laws without consequence are meaningless," he scoffed. "Did you truly expect your peace treaty to be more than a temporary ceasefire? I'm disappointed by your naiveté, Shiori."

"There will be consequence for this," Shiori tried to keep her voice calm and steady, "and it will be your head."

"Not before Konoha has yours."

Blood drained from Shiori's face as the icy grip of panic began to take hold of her. _After twenty years, he'd finally returned to finish the job_. Unlike their encounter many years ago, this time she sensed no hesitation. He was not here to kill her against his will. He was here because he _wanted_ to. "It's a little late to carry out Ayame's orders, don't you think? If you kill me now, there will be war," she tried to reason with him.

"No. There will be _justice_ ," he said, tightening his grip on Shiori's wrists and pulling her deeper into the building's dark recesses.

"And who are you to fancy yourself judge and executioner? Does the Land of Fire's order mean nothing to you? I have broken no laws."

"Where Konoha's laws act against her best interest, I will operate outside them. And when Konoha's weak leadership leads her down the path to ruin, I will right the course from the darkness if I have to. You betrayed your country," he continued, "and I will not allow you to escape the consequences of your actions any longer."

"Your Konoha betrayed _me_ when it sentenced an innocent to die. It betrayed _my family_ when it pillaged and raped Ame for years. You're not here because I betrayed Konoha, Danzo," she spat. "You're here because you think I betrayed _you_." Her words struck him, shaking from him his cool demeanor. Rage flickered behind his eyes and his mouth hardened into a dark frown. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, however, a hiss echoed throughout the cavernous room. Suddenly, the two found themselves bathed in a brisk shower of cool water. Shiori choked back a sob of relief, instantly realizing who had set off the fire alarm. _Rika had arrived to the rescue_.

"As a former friend, Danzo, I suggest you flee now. That alarm is connected to an emergency response network. Any minute, this building will be surrounded."

"Come," he ignored her, pulling her towards the nearest stairwell. "It appears we are not alone." For what seemed like an eternity, Danzo dragged Shiori up the endless flight of stairs. Though fit, Shiori lost stamina thanks to the sheer number of steps and the continual effort not to slip on the slick concrete. Stopping only once they'd reached the roof, Danzo kicked open the door onto the outside terrace. With her free hand, Shiori shielded her eyes from the now pouring rain as Danzo eyed their surroundings.

Suddenly, Shiori heard a whistle through the pelting torrent. Danzo, hearing the sound as well, pulled her to his chest as the whistle was soon followed by a chorus of similar sounds. Steering them from side to side, Danzo attempted to evade the silvery onslaught of nearly invisible darts. Annoyed after several moments of dodging, he forcefully threw Shiori to the ground to perform a wind technique. Filling his lungs with a deep inhale, he released a powerful gust to counteract the needle's momentum. Propping herself into a sitting position, Shiori's heart soared to witness her hatted friend leap from the side of the nearest building onto their roof. "Rika, don't engage him. Get help!"

"You'd be wise to listen to her, bodyguard. Our last encounter did not end well for you. Before you make any bad decisions, know that you have _nothing_ that can counter me. My wind abilities far outclass yours, and you couldn't use sensory technique to save your own hide."

"True enough," Rika nodded, unperturbed, "but it looks like you're not such a great sensor yourself."

Though Rika's blowgun remained at her side, a single whistle cut through the air. Realizing that he'd fallen into Rika's trap, Danzo focused his sole concentration on the oncoming dart. Finding it, he prepared his chest for a second gust, only to cough in surprise as the dart altered its course and flew towards his blind side. Reacting quickly, Danzo caught the dart as it grazed his ear, mere millimeters from his head. Though the dart had missed his target, a cold numbness began to spread over his wounded ear. "Enough!" he shouted, forming his hands into a quick succession of hand signs. Once ready, Danzo unleashed a powerful inhale, the force of which lifted Rika off her feet and sent her spiraling towards him. Shiori watched, shocked and helpless as her friend fought in vain to resist the powerful vacuum. Danzo did not release her until she was inches before him. Then, in one smooth fell swoop, he twirled her previous dart in his fingers and lodged it into the base of her spine.

"Darts guided with chakra tags. By firing that first round, you meant to trick me into believing they were all undoctored. I bet you fired this last one off before you even landed on this roof. You're a little cleverer than I thought. You even coated them with paralysis poison. But as I told you before," he gripped Rika by the jacked and pulled her stiffening body to its feet, "nothing you do can stop me. And unfortunately for you, trying to stop me will be the last thing you ever do. However, I do have some good news. Thanks to this," he yanked the poisoned dart violently from her back, "your last moments should be quite peaceful. And when your body hits the ground," he lifted her further into the air, "you won't feel a thing."

Rika immobilized by the dart's poison and Shiori frozen to the ground in helplessness, the two watched in horror as Danzo delivered a violent kick to Rika's stomach sending her flying over the roof's edge. For one last time, Shiori's eyes locked with Rika's, though the teal eyes that met hers little resembled those of her friend. The Rika she knew was fearless. But the eyes of this woman betrayed fear and shock. Everything about the moment felt upside down and surreal as Shiori watched her old world fall away with her friend.

As Shiori feared, she had not escaped her nightmare after all. Instead, she had awoken to a reality far worse.


	33. Chapter 33

Shiori stared at the ledge in disbelief. Body reeling from shock, she stumbled clumsily on all fours towards the roof's edge. Her layered robes, now thoroughly soaked by the downpour, weighed her body down like irons and threatened to suffocate her as she struggled to move in them. By the time she tumbled onto the ledge, she was gasping for breath.

Nothing but darkness greeted her from the alley far below. Inability to see the ground gave her some hope that Rika's demise wasn't as certain as it had looked. Shinobi could scale buildings, couldn't they? Surely someone as skilled and experienced as Rika couldn't succumb to her own poison dart or a little free fall. Any moment, her eyes would meet Rika's smiling face on her way up to save her. Even if the hope was false, she took it.

As seconds passed, Rika did not reappear. " _Rika?_ " she asked the air, increasingly uncertain. Her voice swallowed up by the deafening rain, she called again. " _Rika! Rikaaaaa!_ " Shiori screamed until her voice broke into a trembling whisper. Though she tried to stifle the surge of sorrow and panic, tears fell from her eyes and joined the trails of rainwater streaming down her face.

"You're wasting your breath," Danzo's heavy footstep fell behind her. "A worthless guard is unworthy of your tears. You should have listened to me when I warned you to replace her."

"Rika was not _worthless_ ," Shiori hissed, her eyes narrowing in rage. "She was the most fearless person I've ever met. And she was my priceless friend."

"If she was so fearless, why did she die with fear in her eyes?"

"She would never cower for herself," she reminded herself. "Rika was fearless to a fault. Too fearless. That's why she challenged you. She didn't give a damn over your god-like powers. You threatened me, and that was all that mattered to her. She was afraid to die, but not because she feared death for herself. She feared for _my_ sake," Shiori realized. "I _challenge_ you, Danzo, to find someone that cares so much for you, that they waste their last breath on a prayer for your safety."

"'Waste' is correct." As Danzo spoke, Shiori heard the sound of cold steel scrape against a sheath. "Your separation from each other will be of short duration."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered breathlessly. "Why is my suffering so important to you?"

"To give you a small taste of the pain you've inflicted upon the village I love."

Shiori shook her head in wonder. "Danzo, you are incapable of love."

"That's what you've always thought of me; isn't it, Shiori?" Danzo fumed. "That I'm some heartless monster?" Usually, Danzo prided himself on his composure. His ability to conquer emotion and remain focused. Ridding himself of feeling had evolved into a religious right, but right now he didn't care. He was no longer Danzo Shimura, chief of Root and the so-called ' _Darkness of the Shinobi_.' He was the young, foolish jonin freshly refused by the daimyo's sister. Ever since that day he'd convinced himself that Shiori's refusal was a mistake. That if she understood him, understood his plans, she would change her mind. Now, it was too late to change the past, but _by god_ he would make her understand him yet. "The depth of my feelings are incomprehensible to you. My love for Konoha is such that I would not only sacrifice my life; I would sacrifice my soul for its wellbeing. I once loved you with equal fervor. Now, my hatred for you burns hotter than the fires of hell you're about to face."

"You're blind if you believe that to be true. You've never loved anyone or anything other than yourself, even Konoha! You don't love Konoha for the country it is, you love the perverted vision and plans you have in store for it. And I am no different. You never truly wanted me. All you wanted was what _you_ could achieve _through_ me!" Enraged enough to meet her captor's eye, Shiori turned to face him only to gape in shock.

Danzo's face, which she once admitted was classically handsome, was twisted beyond recognition by malice and hatred. Frantically, she searched it for any sign of goodness and found none. Angry trenches lined his wrinkled forehead, and his lips snarled around bared teeth. Black, shark-like eyes bored into her own, giving her the impression of some rabid creature. With a bolt of sudden clarity, she realized he was baring his twisted soul to her.

It frightened and repulsed her. Not because of its blackness, but instead, because somewhere deep inside, the same dark feelings resonated with her. Like Danzo, she too had nursed a hatred towards Konohagakure until it had poisoned and shaped her. And though her actions against her homeland may have been inevitable, she had _enjoyed_ them. She had wanted to smite the land that had so senselessly betrayed her. In truth, her soul was no cleaner than his. Suddenly, she was flooded by remorse and regret for having failed to rise above the very cycle of hate she and her husband devoted their lives to ending.

"Perhaps I did want to change you," he acknowledged. "What an exercise in futility that would have been. I regret ever wasting a thought on including you in my scheme."

"Just as I regret wasting my wrath towards Konoha instead of men like _you_ who manipulate it into doing evil."

Danzo strode a few steps forward. "Thick as you are, you of all people should know that sometimes evil is necessary for the greater good. Just like the evil that is about to happen here today," he raised his katana and rested the blade against her neck. Shiori shivered, but whether from fear or the cool blade's proximity to her skin she could not tell. "Further conversation is unnecessary. It's clear to both of us that we will never settle our differences in this life. Any last words before I banish you to the next?"

Shiori's mind raced. _She couldn't let it end this way_. But what could she do? She was on her own and completely overpowered. Furthermore, it had probably been over a year since she had performed even a basic jutsu. In her reliance on Hanzo and Rika, she had forgotten many of the most basic self-defense jutsu they had taught her. Forcing herself to remain calm, Shiori thought. _What could she accomplish with her limited arsenal of techniques?_ A series of scenarios, each more hopeless than the last, progressed through her mind. All, save one if she was lucky, ended in her demise. Finding no better alternative, she committed herself to it.

"Think quickly now," Danzo's voice slashed through her thoughts. "I'm afraid I can't give you the luxury of my patience."

"Very well," Shiori exhaled slowly. "Know that if I die today, you will accomplish nothing. My _will_ will live on, because Amegakure will live on. And as long as there are Hattori in Amegakure, it will never cease to struggle against the tyranny you seek to impose upon it."

Danzo's face pinched in annoyance. "What a waste of patriotism. If that's all you have to say¬," he raised the katana from Shiori's neck into the air, " _die_." Danzo's arm fell to strike the final blow. Just as he swung, however, his eyes spotted a metallic glint to his side. Distracted for less than a moment, his swing held true to its target: _Shiori's neck_. Rather than the satisfaction of impact, however, Danzo's katana instead met with no resistance. Where Shiori once kneeled, her many layers of kimono fell to the ground, collapsing over a poof of smoke. _A substitution jutsu_.

Not sparing a moment to triumph over the successful technique, Shiori maneuvered behind Danzo. Her hair, loosened from the golden clip she had thrown to distract him, fell below her shoulders and plastered around her face and neck. Free of her drenched and heavy robes, she could move about quickly in her bottommost layer: her old training uniform. Though thin and providing little insulation, she always made sure to don it in the event of an emergency. _At least, that's what she told anyone who asked_. Actually, the daring, plunge v-neck ensemble gave her a sense of empowerment and invincibility. In it, desire to conform to convention and status quo fell away, and she could embody the rebellion her young, innocent self had championed. While the old outfit provided little by way of protection, she could not imagine a more suitable battle armor.

Physical and spiritual burdens cast aside, peace and confidence surged through her. She would have only a second before Danzo discovered the deception and spotted her, but that was all she needed. Envisioning the sharpest kunai she could imagine, she pulsed chakra into her palms and forged the weapon with the fire of her kekkei genkai while hurdling herself towards her adversary. On her way, the whites of Danzo's eyes spotted her. She had lost the element of surprise, but that was a luxury she knew not to expect. There was no escaping injury in this plan. And if help did not arrive soon, there was no escaping death. Even so, Shiori felt no fear and she lunged her kunai into Danzo's eye and staggered under the force of a powerful blow to her chest.

In fact, she felt nothing at all even as she crashed to the ground beside Danzo, and all went white.

Seconds passed. Or maybe minutes. Danzo didn't know. When he stirred, he could not seem to regain his sense of time. _He could not seem to regain his sense of anything_. His eyes saw nothing but opaque whiteness, and a dull ringing in his ears eclipsed all other sound. He could not feel and he could not move, so he lay.

At length, he felt a pelting, cool pressure against his face. _Rain_. Soon after, he could discern a second, warmer liquid slide against his skin. As the whiteness faded from his eyes into distinguishable colors, he brushed his fingers against his cheek to affirm his suspicion. _Blood_. As if visual confirmation of injury jumpstarted his brain, Danzo reeled in sudden, excruciating pain. _His right eye was gone_.

Danzo labored for breath. Convulsing in agony, he rolled on his side and spotted Shiori's still figure. A pool of blood had begun to puddle beneath her, staining the tips of her loose blonde hair red. Her hands, shaking in shock, clasped the impaling katana in either investigation or a vain effort to remove it. She would die from blood loss any moment, he realized, but his mind was too overcome to derive any satisfaction from his accomplished mission. Instead, he diverted all energy towards one purpose: avoiding her same fate.

As Danzo lifted himself with difficulty, his eyes locked with a pair of violet irises. Shiori, now fully awake, had ceased her struggle against the blade and panted faintly on the ground. _Should he leave her this way? Allow life to drain from her veins like a wounded animal?_ The horrific image sent a chill down his spine, and for a brief moment, fear eclipsed pain. Barely strong enough to walk, he decided he would have to let her be. _It would all be over for her soon enough_. Despite his resolution, however, his feet remained firmly planted to the ground. He could not walk away.

"I never thought you would use that ability against me," he rasped. "You don't deserve it, you know. I thought your kekkei genkai was a gift to Konoha. _You_ were supposed to be a gift to Konoha! Instead, you were its curse!"

Shiori made no response, but she did not look away.

Danzo took a moment to compose himself and to allow the cool rain to extinguish his raging passion. "Had it not been for the rain," he observed, "your attack probably would have worked. A longer flame would have reached my brain for sure. Instead, you only took my eye. I don't care about that. Eyes can be replaced. But you . . . I've broken you beyond all reparation."

For the second time, Danzo turned to leave but stopped. There was something more he had to say, but pain overpowered his brain. "You were talented," he finally settled. "Together, we could have been great."

"I was great without you," Shiori responded faintly.

Before Danzo could reply, he sensed a disturbance at the base of the building. With one last backwards glance and one more moment of hesitation, he turned from her and vanished into the pouring rain.

Shiori was now alone. She could not move, she could not feel, and she could not call for help. Even if help was on its way, it would not arrive in time. _She was dying_. Every passing second, she could feel warmth leaving her body and the freezing hands of death grasp at her limbs.

Her vision blurred, and her mind vacillated in and out of consciousness. Struggling for control over her last thoughts, she devoted her remaining energy to replaying her memories. The births of her talented children. The growth of her thriving country. And her fruitful, loving marriage with Hanzo. _Together they had accomplished so much_. Love flooded her and streamed from her eyes as each scene passed before her eyes. She felt no anger towards her brother, Konohagakure, or even Danzo. Without his rescue in her youth, she may not have lived to see it all anyway. She was not angry. She was grateful to have lived a life more fulfilling than anyone could possibly deserve.

 _How peaceful it felt to let everything go_ , her lips quivered into a smile. To abandon hatred. To forgive. To leave the world in peace with a heart full of gratitude. She was satisfied, and she was ready. And with her last breath, she whispered her final benediction to the world.

" _Thank you._ "


	34. Chapter 34

"Someone, tell me what the _hell_ happened here." Hanzo glared at the corpse below him with a mixture of fury and alarm. As soon as he received word of a disturbance in the city and the disappearance of his wife and her bodyguard, he had returned in a matter of minutes. To him, a threat to Shiori was graver than a threat to the nation itself, and the latest, gruesome discovery at his feet only served to elevate his fears. Beside him, Kanzo, Hatsuharu, and Hatsuharu's team, arriving only shortly before himself, looked on in grim dismay.

"The perpetrator created a distraction in the marketplace with a timed explosive," the chief of shinobi police explained. "They used it to lure away Lady Shiori's guards and did away with this one who remained behind. No trace has been seen or heard from either Lady Shiori or Miss Tanaka ever since. And unfortunately, both this crime scene and the marketplace were compromised by the rain before we even arrived."

"How can there be _nothing?!_ No sightings? Not signals of distress? Kanzo, I want ever sensor's eyes directed at this city."

"They already are. Unfortunately, with so many people interfering, it's doing little good. Isolating two chakra signals out of a million is near impossible. I know none of us would like to entertain this thought," Kanzo said with unease, "but I think it's time for Onmoraki to join the search."

Hanzo's blood froze at the implication. Kanzo's condor summon Onmoraki's expertise lay in locating only one thing: _corpses_. "That's not necessary," he said, refusing to entertain the idea that his wife was beyond recovery.

"Inspector, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary today? Anything at all?" Hatsuharu asked, stroking his chin in thought.

"Nothing, General, save for this incident and a faulty fire alarm sounding in one of the abandoned projects in the west end."

"The fire alarm, when did that occur?"

"I'd say about forty minutes ago. Since, several of my men inspected it and found no trace of a fire."

Hanzo, Hatsuharu, and Kanzo shared a glance, arriving at the same conclusion instantaneously. In a city of perpetual rainfall, fires were practically unheard of. This, coupled with the alarm's timing sounded some alarm bells of its own. "Thank you, Inspector. I believe we'd all like to see this building for ourselves."

By the time the group arrived, only a few workers remained milling about the base floor. "There's n-no one inside, m-my lord," their superior, intimidated by Hanzo's hulking figure and stormy expression, stuttered. "Though it looks like someone inside m-manually triggered the sprinklers from the s-second floor. We also found a window on that floor open when we arrived."

 _They had been here_. Hanzo was sure of it. "You've searched everywhere? The basement? The stairwells? The roof? The elevator shafts? Every room and every closet?"

"Everywhere except the elevator shafts, s-sir. And the roof. We didn't think anyone would be up there in this rain."

"I want every room inspected again. Hatsu, join their search. Kanzo, follow me to the roof." Hanzo didn't expect to find the perpetrator lying in wait for him there, but perhaps there would be a clue as to where the abductor had taken his wife from here. Even so, he stopped Kanzo before the duo leapt their way up the building. "Kanzo, is anyone waiting for us up there?"

Kanzo clasped his hands and focused. "There is something. It's faint, possibly a bird. Or a trap."

"Whatever it is, prepare for a fight," Hanzo said, wrapping the chains of his kusarigama around his hands in preparation. With a nod, Kanzo followed suit, and together, the two scaled the steel structure in a series of successive leaps, overshooting the roof to give them a chance to aerially inspect their surroundings.

Initially, Hanzo could see nothing through the rain. But even when a figure came into view, he refused to believe his sight. At some point he landed but was too disoriented to notice the concrete beneath his feet. He was stunned, so much so that he did not feel his scythe slip from his fingers and land with a splash into the red puddle at his feet. He did not even feel his knees buckle and collapse to the ground. Instead, all he felt was a numbing cold seize him as he slowly accepted that the fire of his life lay extinguished forever before him.

A bead of sweat trickled down his face. "Shi . . .," he could not bring himself to say her name or acknowledge the obvious. With a trembling hand, he reverently pushed a stray, blonde lock aside to check Shiori's neck for a pulse. _There was none_. Beneath his mask, his lips trembled, stuttering in disbelief. Shiori _couldn't_ be gone. They were too close. Amegakure was _almost theirs_. Without her, Hanzo could not remember why he wanted it in the first place.

Desperately, he pressed his fingers to her pale, _too_ pale, throat again, harder. As his numbness subsided, his fingers began to feel not a reassuring pulse, but instead, a lifeless cold.

Behind him, Kanzo bowed his head in sorrow. "Hanzo, I'm so sorry, my friend. From the looks of it, she must have fought bravely to the bitter end. I'll call the coroner. We need to secure the crime scene as soon as possible." He frowned as each second that passed, the precious few remnants of the perpetrator were washed away. All remnants, save for one. A katana, presumably the one that had dealt the fatal blow, protruded from Shiori's torso. "The assassin must have left in great haste to have forgotten his sword. He's likely still nearby. We must act quickly."

Hanzo's eyes turned the cruel, red hilted blade for the first time. Somewhere deep inside him, a molten rage he had never experienced began to stir, but for now, he chose to focus on Shiori's hair. Shiori, who was brave, who bluffed her way through every conflict, fought to the bitter end. Her bloodied hands and unkempt hair testified to her valor. But now, the golden tips which framed her neck and sloping shoulders were now dirtied with red. _He hated that_. And she would hate to be seen unkempt, strewn upon the ground undignified. _She would want to go home_. Wrenching the sword from his wife and tossing it aside, he then lifted the broken body in his arms and headed towards the ledge.

"My lord," Kanzo rose his arms in protest. "I'm sorry, but we must leave her here for now until the coroner arrives. If there is any evidence left at the scene, we cannot afford to lose it."

Indifferent, Hanzo continued towards the ledge. "What difference does it make when I've already lost _everything_?"

Kanzo watched, paralyzed by helplessness, as his old friend vanished into the abyss below. A master planner, Kanzo had never not known what to do next. But without a body, a witness, a suspect, or a crime scene, there was little he could do alone. With a shaky sigh of reluctance, he pulled a scroll from his belt and summoned the one source of help he had hoped he would not need.

After a flurry of hand signals and a plume of smoke, two enormous black wings emerged from the dark cloud, shielding Kanzo from the pelting rain. Beneath the inky feathers, a twisted beak protruded from a ring of blood red plumage. "TINY HUMAN," the summoned condor squawked. "You have DISTURBED my slumber. FALL on your KNEE appendages and BEG for–"

"Onmoraki," Kanzo interrupted. "Find Rika."

Wordlessly, the condor opened and closed his beak in confusion. "I CANNOT find the LIVING," Onmoraki said, puzzled by Kanzo's request.

"I know. Let's just say I have a bad feeling. Do what you can with the senses you have. I doubt she strayed far from here."

Sensing his summoner's concern, Onmoraki launched himself into the sky and faded into the misty rain clouds without further reply. Shortly after, the deafening beat of his wings was replaced by the opening of the stairwell door onto the rooftop terrace. "Completely desolate below, I'm afraid," Hatsuharu said, "so I suggest we–" Suddenly, Hatsuharu's eyes fell upon the red pool and the discarded katana beside it.

"Hatsu," Kanzo lay a heavy hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. We arrived too late."

Hatsuharu's eyes widened in horror and shock. "Where is she? Where is my mother?"

"With your father. If you want to see them, I'll take care of things here. But I won't lie. I could use your help. I've summoned Onmoraki to find Rika and plan to search for her myself. With this crime scene compromised, she may be our only link to the assassin."

Hatsuharu struggled to remain calm and clear his mind, but all he could focus on was the pool of blood at his feet. His _mother's_ blood. With a choked gulp, he tore his eyes away and focused again on the katana. "Is that . . ."

"The murder weapon? I believe so. In this rain, though, I have no hope of retrieving fingerprints from it."

Hatsuharu crouched beside the sword. Its curved, slender blade connected to a crude, wrapped hilt. A common design, save for the unusual color chosen for the hilt. Instead of the traditional black wrap, the leather grip of this katana was a rusty red, a red he had seen before at the sides of his Akatsuki informants. His eyes narrowed in thought. _Were they behind this?_ Had they seen through his empty promises and betrayed him? Perhaps they had given up on Hanzo's blessing and instead now sought to take the country for their own. He shook his head, deciding it did not add up. _He wasn't thinking clearly_. Even if they were not behind this, they were somehow involved.

"I'll meet you at home. There's someone I need to talk to. I'll explain later," Hatsuharu said, turning from the scene as Onmoraki's black wings reappeared and swooped into the alleyway below.

"Go then," Kanzo said, distracted. "I have someone I need to see as well."

Following Onmoraki's path, Kanzo launched himself into the back alley. As he made his way down, zigzagging from wall to wall, he spotted a tremendous pile of construction refuse. Torn tarps, buckets, insulation, lumber, and other abandoned materials littered the side street of the unfinished project. Nearing the ground, he spotted and landed near Onmoraki nestled on the pile below. "Have you . . ." Kanzo asked, too breathless and afraid to complete his question.

Onmoraki rubbed his beak gently against his partner's trench coat before lifting his wing. Beneath the tent-like appendage, Rika lay lodged between the construction waste and refuse. Though badly broken from her fall, her eyes opened slightly upon his arrival. Energized by the small ray of hope, he stumbled clumsily up the pile to her side.

There was so much he wanted to say. That the day he rescued her was his most cherished memory. That raising her from a lonely girl into a strong, passionate, and caring woman was his greatest achievement. That he had always loved her as his own child. Instead, forcing himself to acknowledge that their time was short and that this was his only chance to bring the bastard who did this to justice, he asked, "Who did this to you?"

Rika's lips quivered with difficulty as she formed her response. "Shiori?" she whispered at length.

Kanzo shook his head. "She didn't make it. But help is on the way for you," he heard himself lie.

"Leave me," Rika closed her eyes as a shadow of despair fell upon her features. "This is where I belong. With the garbage."

Climbing closer, Kanzo lifted her into his arms as he did when she was a small child. "Don't say that. You will recover, and once you do, we'll find who did this to you and Shiori and bring them to justice. But Rika, tell me quickly, who was it? What did they look like?"

"His name . . ." Rika's eyelids wrinkled in thought, as though struggling to retrieve a forgotten memory.

"Was it someone you know? Someone Shiori knew?"

"Iron," Rika whispered as her eyelids relaxed.

"Open your eyes, Rika. Stay with me." Kanzo's hands shook, knowing that if he allowed Rika to rest now, she would never awaken. "Did you say 'Iron?' Was that their name, or something else?" Rika muttered something unintelligible causing Kanzo's sweat to mingle with the rain drops streaming from his drenched hair. "Rika, why can't your nose be twelve inches long?" he attempted to joke, desperate for any way to keep her conscious.

"Because it would be a foot."

"I've asked that one before?"

"Many times," Rika smiled, opening her eyes briefly.

"Let me think of a new one then. Just stay with me, Rika," she urged as heavy lids once again closed upon her eyes.

"Maybe later . . . I'm so tired. Let me sleep a while . . . _please_."

Kanzo blinked away moisture from his eyes as he realized this battle was one he could not win. His Rika was too heavily damaged to contain her unbreakable spirit. It escaped from her second by second, leaving behind all care, pain, and memory. All he could do now was hold her and ensure her last feelings were those of warmth and love. "Okay, Rika. I'll wake you up when it's all over."

" _Thanks, Dad_."


	35. Chapter 35

Kisa loved her mother, but the two shared little in common. They operated in different spheres of Amegakure and saw each other seldom outside meal times. Even so, Kisa thought that the biologic, maternal link they shared would have alerted her that something had gone terribly wrong. Instead, she had marched on in blissful ignorance for a full day before returning to her city in mourning.

Somehow, the infamously gloomy capital city appeared all the drearier in its grief. Seas of black-cloaked figures processed through the streets with starched, white handkerchiefs to their eyes. Traveling beside them, Kisa's bright orange hair and colorful mare stood out in garish irreverence. Newspapers headlining reports, rumors, family photos, and obituaries littered the ground her horse trot upon, paving a memory lane which wound all the way to her family home. There too mourners crowded the gates, strewing flowers and selling papers.

As Kisa plowed through the throngs of men, women, and children come to pay their respects, she concentrated all energy on maintaining her stiff upper lip. For now, she would serve as an example of strength and resilience for her father's people. Once behind closed doors, however, then she would allow herself to mourn.

Finally through the gate, Kisa ordered the nearest guards to usher her to her father. The room they led her to was a vast one, empty save for a few tables, chairs, a coffin, and her father. Even had the room more to observe, Kisa would not have noticed. Her father, altered by grief as the city itself, consumed her undivided attention. Bowed over her mother with head heavy in hand, he did not stir as she approached.

Finding no words, she silently draped her arms around her father's neck. Over his shoulder, she could see her mother's long blonde hair cascade over her shoulders and neck and mingle amongst a bed of roses. She wore not her ceremonial robes, but a sheer, loose gown which elegantly draped her figure. Kisa averted her eyes, unaccustomed to seeing her mother so informally clad or with her hair loose from its pins. This Shiori was her father's lover, not the mother she saw on a daily basis. Suddenly, Kisa felt as though she was trespassing upon an intimate moment and questioned whether she should leave. "Father, are you sure she would have wished to be presented this way?"

"There will be no 'presentation.' No one is to see her. I will not have her paraded through the streets."

"But the funeral?"

"There will be no funeral. Not for them, at least. None will know where I choose to hide her."

Kisa's natural frown deepened at her father's strange decision. The village head's wife deserved more than a hidden, unmarked grave. These modest plans would not do for her mother. "The people, they wish to see her one last time. They would want her to have a proper burial and a resting place they can visit to pay their respects."

"I don't give a damn what the people want anymore," Hanzo growled lowly.

Stunned by her father's harsh words and temper, Kisa realized her father wished to be alone. Though it hurt her to leave his side, she could do nothing for him here. If she truly wanted to help, she should be outside hunting down the one that had dealt this blow. "I will find who did this, Father. I will find them, bring them to you, and together we will _destroy_ them. Hatsuharu and Kanzo are leading investigations, I presume? I will join them." To this, Hanzo said nothing. "We will have justice, Father," she vowed, taking her leave. "I swear it." Hanzo did not turn to see her off. In fact, Kisa suspected he had not cast her a glance the entire time.

Despite her confident words, Kisa felt shaken by her father's strange behavior. His quiet devastation touched her heart far deeper than the mourning of the entire city combined, driving home the horrible realization that her family would never be the same. Whoever did this had destroyed their felicity beyond repair. "How _dare_ they!" Consumed by rage, she lifted and threw the nearest vase against the wall, shattering it across the floor with a tremendous crash. Those around her gaped in shock and alarm. Once they realized the source of the commotion, their faces softened into sympathetic looks for the motherless girl. Embarrassed by her outburst and their pity, Kisa retreated to the outside courtyard to regain her composure and think.

Outside, the cool air helped temper her anger and self-confidence. Truthfully, without an order to follow, without some plan of attack thrust upon her shoulders, she had no idea how to act on her own. In her father's tight circle, Hatsuharu and Kanzo were the clever ones. They were likely close to solving the mystery of her mother's murder by now without her assistance. _They were stronger than her as well_. Was she truly so powerless and unimaginative that she could do nothing on her own?

Deflated, she slumped onto the nearest bench. Around her, fragrant primrose, milkweed, calla, and hydrangea bloomed with a brightness that nearly hurt her eyes. It felt strange that they so thrived without the woman who had ordered them planted there in the first place. Nevertheless, the small green space comforted her, reminding her that not all ties to her mother were cut forever. "Mother," she prayed quietly resting her head in the palms of her hands, "Mother, please help me. I want to avenge you, but I have no idea where to start."

Suddenly, a small gust of wind scattered a flurry of discarded newspapers into the courtyard. Picking one that had blown against her leg from the ground, Kisa unwrinkled the document and spread it upon her lap. As she suspected, this page also contained obituaries and photographs of her mother. Sinking back into the bench, Kisa skimmed the laundry list of her mother's accomplishments: establishing Amegakure's first public orphanage; saving the country from crippling inflation; and perhaps her most daring endeavor, wrestling a secret technique from the hands of Iwagakure spies.

The other stories she could believe. Her mother was always most comfortable behind a desk or chairing a committee. However, despite the numerous eyewitness accounts, she had always remained skeptical of that last one. Kisa found it hard to imagine her mother freefalling after a scroll. But it _did_ happen. Everyone alive at the time remembered the day, and she herself had seen the scroll enshrined in the Amegakure archives.

 _That scroll, she had not thought about it in years_. As a child, she begged her father to teach it to her. Despite her protests, he forbade it for reasons unknown to her. Perhaps reasons unknown to himself. All she knew, all _anyone_ knew, was that it gave the wielder temporary superhuman strength at a great cost. However, if it could grant her the power to face this murderer when the time was right, she was willing to pay whatever price it demanded.

Determination renewed, Kisa marched to the archives, ignoring all who addressed her along the way. Located in the heart of the city not far from her home, the grand archive was a series of cavernous rooms with ceilings and shelves stories high. As a child, those rooms seemed infinite, and even today, she agreed with her childhood estimation. All around her, strange books, scrolls, boxes, and artifacts lined the shelves in careful order. As she progressed towards the room's center, her echoing footsteps were suddenly joined by a unison of others. Turning another corner, she found herself face to face with the chief archivist and his two guards.

"My lady," the hunched archivist skittered forward, "please let me offer you my deepest condolences and ask if I can be of any assistance to you."

"I am here to retrieve something that belonged to my mother," she said, pushing past them.

The archivist's face screwed into a puzzled expression. "Something that belonged to Lady Shiori? Ah-ha!" he pointed his index finger in realization. "You must be referencing the _Black Heart of the Dark Forest_ scroll. That, I'm afraid, is a secret technique. It technically belongs to your father who has instructed that it, like all documents here, is not to be removed."

"These are unique circumstances. I am removing this scroll in anticipation of his will," she continued.

"I cannot let you to do this, my lady." the aged man wheezed as he struggled to match her pace. "I order these guards not to allow it!"

At that, Kisa paused and shot the guards a menacing glare. "Stand down. I have no time to waste on you while my mother's murderer is still at large." The intimidated guards shrunk back, uncertain of Kisa's authority and what Hanzo would do to them if he heard they had stood in her way. Unopposed, Kisa reached the foot of a pedestal situated in the center of the room. On top of the pillar rested an ornate, wooden box. With reverent hands, Kisa unlatched the rusted hinge and retrieved a yellowed parchment.

The guards exchanged worried, uncertain glances. "My lady, your father's orders are that nothing is to be removed from here without his permission. Please return the scroll." Ignoring the guard's plea, Kisa carefully rolled the scroll in her hands and headed towards the exit.

"Guards! You cannot permit this!" the archivist spat in dismay.

Kisa stopped once more, turned, and arrested the man in with a fiery gaze. "They _will_ permit this because they know who I am. You evidently need a reminder. I am Kisa Hattori, daughter of Sanshouo no Hanzo, enforcer of his will, and punisher of all those who _dare_ stand against it. You stand warned. Now step aside."

"But if you use that thing, you could die, or worse!" the second guard shouted in a last ditch effort to reason with her.

"Perhaps I will," Kisa continued, "but not before my enemy. And if we are both to perish, I look forward to continuing our fight for all eternity in hell." Powerless against the strength of her will, the archivist and his guards looked on helplessly as Kisa exited the archives scroll in hand.


	36. Chapter 36

_How long would he be forced to wait here like a damned fool?_ Kanzo paced the Hattori dining room impatiently. The room, usually bursting with the Hattori's contagious energy, seemed lifeless and empty save for the echoes of his footsteps. It unsettled him to think that those joyful evenings were possibly over for good. Kanzo shuddered. He did not want to tarry here a moment longer than was necessary.

 _Where was Hatsuharu?_ Earlier, a note from the boy had arrived instructing him to meet here. But that was half an hour ago. Kanzo debated whether to continue on with his investigation and rendezvous with Hatsuharu later. Fortunately, the sound of footsteps outside the dining room door put an end to Kanzo's dilemma. Hatsuharu entered, drenched to the bone and in a mood as foul as the weather outside. "What news?" Kanzo asked, sensing Hatsuharu was in no humor for pleasantries. _Frankly, neither was he_.

"First," Hatsuharu slumped into a seat by the table, "did you bring what I asked?" With a terse nod, Kanzo pulled a deck of photographs from his pocket and handed them to him. Bitter emotions flashed across Hatsuharu's face as he was forced to revisit images of the crime scene. After a few moments, he pulled an image from the deck and laid it upon the table. "This sword," he pointed to the photographed katana, their one and only piece of evidence, "I thought it looked familiar." Reaching beside him, Hatsuharu thrust an identical, red-hilted blade onto the table.

"Where did you find this?" Kanzo closely examined the blade. _This could be a vital clue_.

"You are familiar with the Akatsuki?"

Kanzo nodded. "Of course. They're celebrated in the countryside as heroes and pacifists, and from what I've seen, their praise is well-deserved. They've put an end to many small skirmishes through words alone, supposedly on your father's behalf. You think there could be a connection?"

"Perhaps," Hatsuharu folded his hands under his chin in thought. "This is the blade their members carry. I have observed it on them during my dealings with them in the past. After I left you at the scene, I went to their city headquarters to interrogate my contacts there. The band's leaders were curiously absent, 'patrolling the countryside,' the underlings said, but I did manage to confirm my suspicions about the blade."

"At last, a prime suspect. Tell me, what are your dealings with them? Do you have any idea as to their possible motive?"

"For many months now, I've worked with them to investigate a foreign spy network. They were very effective, _too_ effective, actually. I fear it has emboldened them. Last I met with them, they demanded Hanzo's recognition as payment for their services. It seems they would like to become his official 'peacekeepers.' I have not delivered on their wishes. It is possible they have grown impatient and feel I have betrayed them, but that seems an unlikely motive to murder the first lady."

"I agree," Kanzo frowned in thought. "For a peaceful group to suddenly resort to murder seems farfetched. However, perhaps it's not the organization as a whole, but a rogue member. Or perhaps someone is framing them."

"Both are possible. We cannot know until we've interrogated them all. Let us make that our first priority. Now, what news have you for me?"

"Regrettably little. Besides from the sword, investigators have found no further evidence at the crime scene. The coroner's report is a little more interesting. Before Lady Shiori passed, she inflicted a severe wound on her presumed murderer judging from the amount of foreign blood found under her fingernails. I suspect our murderer is currently injured."

"This is good to know. Did he pronounce the cause of death?"

Kanzo hesitated for a moment. "Blood loss from her wound."

Hatsuharu's eyes clenched shut as though he were in pain. "Then we were _moments_ too late," he exhaled shakily. The thought that he could have prevented this, that perhaps he had even played a role himself, filled him with self-loathing. He would never forgive himself, but slaughtering everyone even remotely responsible promised some comfort. "How about Rika? What did you learn from her?"

"Her death was caused by internal injuries from her fall," Kanzo said, struggling to remain dispassionate. "Shortly before, she was paralyzed, likely from one of her own darts. I did manage to speak with her briefly before she passed."

"And?"

"She was not very lucid, but she did mention one thing. When I asked if she knew the murderer, it seemed as if she did but could not recall their name. She said something about 'iron.' Does that mean anything to you?"

"No," Hatsuharu shook his head. "And it doesn't appear to implicate the Akatsuki either. What a puzzle, this." Returning his attention to the images upon the table, he struggled in silence to make sense of it all until a commotion downstairs interrupted his thoughts. "Father must be home. He will not be pleased that we do not have answers."

"No, but we have a good idea now of where to find them. That will have to satisfy him for now."

Soon after, Hanzo's immense presence filled the doorway. His usually broad, straight shoulders appeared to slump under the weight of his drenched cloak. Mud caked the bottom half of his trousers, suggesting that wherever he had been these past twenty-four hours had been outside the city. Though he had given no reason for his departure, Shiori's missing body was all Hatsuharu and Kanzo needed to explain Hanzo's mysterious errand. "It is finished," he said, a tinge of weariness softening his usually powerful voice. As soon as his tired eyes landed upon the photographs strewn across the table, however, they awakened with a sudden flash of anger. " _Enough of this grief_. Tell me now who did this so I can _destroy_ them with my bare hands. _You_ ," he growled at an attendant. "Sake."

Kanzo and Hatsuharu exchanged a wary glance. _Their report would not be enough after all_. "We have a prime suspect," Hatsuharu started, "but first we must–"

"My lords, I am sorry to interrupt," the attendant said, returning with sake in hand, "but there is a group here from Konohagakure that must speak with you. They said they have crucial information surrounding Lady Shiori's case."

"Then let us hear what they have to say before we finish our report," Kanzo silenced Hatsuharu.

"Show me to them!" Hanzo barked. Obediently, the attendant led Hanzo and his company to the outside terrace. There, a heavily bandaged man and his entourage stood solemnly in the rain. What caught Hanzo's eye, however, was not the men themselves, but what lay at their feet. Strewn upon the ground was a _massacre_ , nine bagged bodies aligned in a neat row. "You! Who are you, and what the devil happened here?!" Hanzo asked the band's bandaged leader.

"Lord Hanzo, I am Danzo Shimura of Konohagakure and an officer of the Hidden Leaf's anbu.

"Danzo?" Kanzo asked, suddenly recalling the mysterious shinobi. "You and I have met before at a mediation in the Land of _Iron_ ," he frowned remembering Rika's final clue. "I almost did not recognize you through the bandages. Tell me, is that a _recent_ injury?"

"An elective surgery," Danzo corrected. "Lord Hanzo," he quickly changed the subject, "first, allow me to express my deepest sympathy. Word has spread throughout the shinobi world of Lady Shiori. Her death is a loss to us all."

"I need no reminder of what I have lost," Hanzo growled menacingly. "Why are you here? And what is the meaning of this?" he motioned to the bodies.

"My lord, please forgive this gruesome display. These men are yours. I was too late when I found them. We were on the way to a peace conference with the Land of Earth when we found their remains. From their forehead protectors, we recognized them as your shinobi. After some investigation, I believe these deaths have a connection to Lady Shiori's murder."

Hanzo's eyes widened in alarm. "Did you see the perpetrators!?"

"Not in action, but I have no doubt it was the Akatsuki." Hatsuharu and Kanzo exchanged another look of surprise. The fact that a mysterious stranger from the past would suddenly emerge now with evidence incriminating their lead suspects seemed too convenient to be true.

"The Akatsuki?" Hanzo asked, equally confused. While he had known of the group's existence for some time, it had never posed a threat. In fact, quite the opposite. In the past, he had approved of their pacifist means to help him bring stability to the countryside. "This cannot be. The Akatsuki is a group that expounds peace and has been growing in influence lately in this village. They claim to be an organization that shares my will! So why–"

"Hanzo, you left them on their own too long. It's fine to be idealistic, however, therein lies your weakness."

"My weakness?!" Hanzo repeated, affronted.

"Because of your high ideals, you are blind to those with similar motives. But they became the enemy and turned against you. That is what caused this tragedy. However noble your ideals, not everyone will buy into them. They may act like they share your hopes, but they're just a disorderly mob. Ultimately they'll let their obsession with greed and power grow into an evil that spreads across not just your land, but the entire shinobi world. I have reason to believe this organization is responsible for the death of my men as well. Recently, we were able to capture a team of them. After a lengthy interrogation, they revealed their ultimate goal to me: to destabilize all establish order and after winning the trust of the people, to seize control out of the chaos."

"That's some theory you have," Hanzo's eyes narrowed, "but thin evidence. What does any of this have to do with my wife?"

"Everything," he said, withdrawing a red-hilted katana from his side and presenting it to Hanzo. "Does this look familiar?"

"That–" Hanzo gasped.

"Resembles the blade which struck her down? I am not surprised. Her death and the death of these men are a sign that they are about to make their move to displace you. Lord Hanzo, _join me_ and avenge your wife. Cast off the sheep's clothing from the Akatsuki, and you'll find they're just wolves out to take over the village. My lord, if nothing is done, that is exactly what they will do."

Alarmed by the persuasive effect of Danzo's words over Hanzo, Kanzo decided it was time to intervene. "Lord Danzo, last time we met you and Lady Shiori were not on good terms. Why concern yourself with avenging her now?"

Danzo's mouth frowned in annoyance. "As long as Konohagakure and Amegakure are at peace, I have no qualm with her. After all, the blood of the Land of Fire ran through her, and any spillage of that blood calls out to me for justice. But if you'd prefer me to speak candidly, I care because my men died too. This terrorist organization isn't just a threat to you, Lord Hanzo, or to my men. It's a threat to us all. I _entreat_ you to join me."

"I thank you for your offered assistance," Kanzo continued, "but I should like to discuss this matter privately first, Lord Hanzo. We have further need of proof–"

"No," Hanzo boomed. "This is all the proof I need. We will act before they suspect anything. I have granted these criminals too much leniency, and for that, I have paid the ultimate price. Now it is _their_ turn to suffer."

"Lord Hanzo! I must–" Before Kanzo could finish his thought, Hatsuharu cut him off with a swift move of his hand.

"Father, I know where we can find them. They have claimed before that they desire your legitimization. If you offer this, we can draw them into the open. Otherwise, they will be difficult to capture. Their numbers have been growing lately and the organization now operates in the city as well as the countryside. We need to better understand their scale and location before we strike. Send word that you have agreed to recognize them, and they will reveal themselves."

"Very well. Tell them that without Shiori, I now require their assistance negotiating peace with the great nations. We will pretend to play into their hands, at least for now. Then we'll spring the trap."

"As you wish," Danzo bowed. "I will send word to Konohagakure that I have been detained so that I and my men may offer you our full assistance."

"How _generous_ of your, sir," Hatsuharu shot Danzo a curious smile. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I will begin with preparations."

"Wait," Kanzo followed him inside and trailed him down the stairs. "We are acting too hasty. Surely, you must see through this Danzo character. How could he possibly know all he does? About the Akatsuki? The sword? There is no doubt in my mind that he should be our suspect of interest rather than the Akatsuki he seems so keen on implicating."

"Oh, I agree _wholeheartedly_ , Kanzo, rest assured. This Danzo could very well be our murderer. But we can't arrest him on grounds of suspicion. We'll need to gather a lot more evidence first, which is why I need to interrogate the Akatsuki first before Father does anything . . . _drastic_. Causing an international incident by accusing the Leaf's chief anbu operative could be costly at this stage."

"Then what are we to do? Allow this stranger to manipulate your father while we stand around and wait?"

" _Precisely_ ," Hatsuharu patted the older man consolingly on his arm before stepping out the door. "They say all good things come to those that do."


	37. Chapter 37

Although the hour was late, and although the neon lights of Amegakure city cast harsh shadows into the Hattori family dining room, the compound shook with activity from the footsteps of countless shinobi, both resident and alien, though none so alien as the enigmatic anbu commander standing before him. Just a few days ago, Hanzo would never consider partnering with such a shady character and his crew. But recent events had turned his world on its head, and he would sign a pack with the devil himself to set things to rights. "Is it finished?"

"Yes, my lord," Danzo bowed respectfully and, with Hanzo's wave of permission, took his seat opposite the Village Head at the dining room table. "With the help of your son, I was able to ferret out the Akatsuki's city headquarters. I had hoped that your subordinate would meet with them to lend our scheme credibility, but he seemed strangely unwilling. I took his place and spoke to them myself."

"I will deal with him later," Hanzo said, his brows furrowing in anger. Kanzo's refusal to participate in this plan frustrated him. The situation called for a swift and devastating response, not the slow, bureaucratic approach Kanzo felt was necessary. Terrorists like the Akatsuki did not deserve the protection of the justice system; they deserved their own private ring in hell. _Kanzo did not understand_. And his sudden insubordination when Hanzo needed him the most tarnished their thirty-year partnership enough to make him wonder if perhaps it was time to select a new right hand. _It was a question for another time_. For now, Hanzo had greater enemies to deal with first. "The Akatsuki, what did you tell them?"

"I gave them your message," Danzo continued, "that you would like them to handle the peace negotiations between Amegakure and surrounding nations."

"The brats aren't suspicious at all, are they?"

"Of course not," Danzo reassured him. "Their leader was overjoyed by the prospect. He was proclaiming the good news to his men as I left. After meeting them in person, it's clear to me that their leader is the lynchpin of the organization. I am certain of this: if the one called Yahiko is killed, the Akatsuki will naturally die off." Truthfully, Danzo was relieved that the organization was no more than a cult of personality. After his altercation with Shiori, he had increased surveillance over the Akatsuki only to discover that several members of the group possessed frightening abilities, the likes of which posed a true threat to Konohagakure. With the leader eliminated, however, it would be more difficult to mobilize the remaining members. Disorganized, they would be easy targets for Hanzo. _Or better yet, perhaps they would destroy each other_. After this partnership, Danzo would no longer have need of Amegakure's Village Head, _and death seemed like a suitable punishment for turning Shiori against her homeland_. "What of your plans, my lord?"

"No need to worry. Hatsuharu's men should be securing the hostage right about now." Thanks to his son's intelligence, they had been able to determine that a crucial member of the organization was alone on patrol. _Hanzo could not have asked for better bait for his trap_.

"Excellent," Danzo feigned a pleasant smile. "With this, that lawless gang that threatens the village will disappear, and the Hidden Rain will fully be yours at last."

A knock at the door signaled their conversation had come to an end. "Lord Hanzo," his guard interrupted, "your father is here to see you."

"Send him in," Hanzo ordered. "If you'll excuse us, Danzo."

"Of course," the Konohagakure shinobi stood, realizing it was time to leave. Behind him, an elderly man appeared at the doorway with a small boy by his side. Recognizing the child's blonde hair and violet eyes, Danzo frowned inwardly in annoyance.

"Forgive our disruption," Hanzo's father, Susumu said, "but I am here to drop Kyo off since you have returned home." With a gently pat, Susumu urged his grandson into the room. Ashamed to show his red, puffy face, Kyo's eyes remained locked on his feet.

"My condolences, young master," Danzo said, patting the boy's shoulders in sympathy.

Alarmed by the foreign voice, Kyo looked up in surprise. He had never encountered a stranger in this family room before. After a moment of studying the gentlemen, recognition dawned on his face. "You're- "

"Danzo Shimura, that's right. We met in the Land of Iron. It has been quite some time, little lord. I see you've grown much stronger. Your mother, I am sure, was very proud of you."

As memory returned to Kyo, his skin prickled in unease. He did not recall much about this stranger, but what he did remember was that _his mother disliked him immensely_. "What happened to your eye?" Kyo asked. Had it not been for the thick bandages encircling the man's head, Kyo would have recognized him sooner.

"A small trifle," Danzo said with a curious smile. "One day if you become village head, little one, you will learn that sometimes we must make sacrifices for justice. Fortunately, I did not need that eye to see the truth, so it was a sacrifice I was willing to make," he said cryptically, giving the boy's shoulder one final pat as he exited the room.

"Hanzo," Susumu said as soon as Danzo was out of earshot, "you know what you need to do." Giving his son a final, reproachful look, the older gentleman took his leave.

Hanzo knew he deserved it. He had barely seen or spoken to Kyo since . . . _the incident_ , but that was by his design. In solitude, Hanzo could strengthen himself with anger. He could bury his despair in wrath and his plot for vengeance. But just one look at his sad, little son penetrated the steel fortress he had erected around his heart as he feared it would. While this encounter was inevitable, he had postponed it as long as he could simply because he could not bear the thought of showing his son how weak he truly was.

"Father, what was that man doing here?" Kyo asked, anger tinging his voice. He did not understand why his father would entertain visitors in their home and ignore him completely.

"These are strange times, Kyo, which call for strange bedfellows. Come, my son," he said, anxious to change the subject. Obediently, Kyo walked into Hanzo's outstretched arms. For a few precious moments, Hanzo held his son in silence, treasuring the last, most perfect gift Shiori had given him. "I'm sorry, Kyo," he said at length. "I pushed you away when you needed me the most. Forgive me."

Kyo choked and nodded his head in response. "Where did you take Mother?" he asked, his voice barely more than a shaky whisper.

"Somewhere safe, where no one with bother her."

"May I see her?"

"One day," he promised.

Kyo nodded again and lapsed into silence for a few moments more. "Is it true that you know who . . . who did it?"

"Yes," Hanzo's arms tightened protectively around him. "I will handle them. Tomorrow, I will take care of those responsible once and for all."

"But that won't bring Mother back," Kyo whispered, burrowing against his father's vest to hide the large tears that now slid down his cheeks.

"No, it won't," Hanzo acknowledged. He could destroy the Akatsuki a thousand times over, but it would do nothing to assuage the grief of this motherless child. _Shiori was lost forever_. Final acceptance of that fact wounded him far deeper than any blade ever could. Suddenly, Hanzo was grateful that Kyo hid his face so as not to see that his father wept.

* * *

"No way," Nora shook her head in disbelief as she trailed Hatsuharu and Yemon downstairs to Amegakure's maximum security detention center. "The Akatsuki can't be behind this. They've worked for us for months now. Why would they suddenly turn around and betray us?"

Yemon nodded. "It doesn't make sense. There's still much we need to investigate, so why is your father going through with this so suddenly? What about evidence? A trial?"

"You're supposed to be a doctor, not a lawyer," Hatsuharu rolled his eyes, "but if you're so concerned, Statute 609.066: Authorized use of deadly force by peace officers. 'The use of deadly force by a peace officer in the line of duty is justified only when necessary to effect the arrest or capture, or prevent the escape, of a person whom the peace officer knows or has reasonable grounds to believe has committed or attempted to commit a felony involving the use or threatened use of deadly force.' Look it up."

"I don't think your mother intended that law to cover kidnapping people to lure suspected criminals into a trap," Yemon said, unconvinced.

"I did not call you both here to _question_ me," Hatsuharu sighed in annoyance. "I want you just to stand guard while I interrogate the prisoner. _You_ -" he called to the shinobi guards below as Cellblock D came into sight, "I require a private audience with the prisoner. These two will stand guard in your stead."

"Yes, General," the two shinobi saluted and left.

"Wait, we don't even get to go inside?!" Nora shouted. "Why the hell did you even bring us?"

"Because afterwards, we have preparations to see to for tomorrow. Don't worry, cupcake," he patted her head, "this will only take a moment. Just, whatever you do, make sure no one intrudes. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the siblings mumbled, exchanging wary glances.

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me," Hatsuharu said, disappearing through the cell door. Inside was a long, harshly lit florescent hallway lined with empty cells.

As soon as she heard footsteps, the prisoner in cell number seven called out to him from down the hall. "Excuse me! Excuse me! I need to speak to a lawyer, to Lord Hanzo, to _anyone!_ " Konan shouted in desperation. "General!" she gasped in relief as Hatsuharu's figure appeared before her cell, " _thank god!_ " the blue haired kunoichi raced to the cell door. "There's been some mistake. I believe the Akatsuki has been framed for Lady Shiori's murder."

"It does appear that way," Hatsuharu smiled sympathetically. "I suspect you may have ruffled a few feathers during your seal investigations."

"I suspected that as well. I firmly believe that whoever is behind the spy network in Amegakure also had something to do with your mother's death. I am so sorry we did not uncover their identity in time. What are we going to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Konan asked, confused. "I don't understand. You have to tell your father that we're not behind this; that someone is deceiving him!"

"Have you ever seen my father?" Hatsuharu asked abruptly. "If you've only seen him from a distance, you may not have noticed. He has a rather unsightly scar that runs from here to here," he said, tracing a line from beneath his eyelid to his jaw. "It's ghastly, really. Do you want to know how he got it? One day, when I was ten years old, the two of us were ambushed. I thought I could handle them myself, but I made a miscalculation that nearly cost me my life. My father intervened to save me, earning him that scar in the process. You see, my father bore the cost for my mistake. I vowed to never let that happen again, and yet, look what's happened. I stuck my head where it didn't belong, and my mother paid the price."

Konan blanched as she begun to understand his logic. "What are you saying . . . that you're going to let him kill us, just to cover _your_ mistake?"

"Not just mine," Hatsuharu's face hardened malevolently. "As far as I'm concerned, you're to blame as well. Your carelessness called attention to your organization."

" _Idiot!_ " she shouted. "Then you're just playing into the real culprit's hands! They want us to take the fall! What about true justice for Lady Shiori?"

"She will have it, in time. Don't fret; the investigation will continue after you're gone." With the Akatsuki out of the way, the _real_ investigation could begin in earnest. While there was no doubt that the Konohagakure anbu leader was somehow implicated, he was untouchable until Hatsuharu gathered real evidence. Any move on him now threatened to break the fragile peace between Amegakure and Konohagakure. And besides, eliminating the Akatsuki had other benefits as well. Hatsuharu would no longer be beholden to them; his promise to legitimize the organization could fall by the wayside. He was surprised and frankly alarmed by how useful the organization had been to him. A group that powerful and popular was not only expensive to buy, but also a potential rival to his father's regime. Their existence added a complexity to Amegakure's civil war that needed to end if his father was ever to unite the country's hearts under one leader.

"You _bastard_ ," she bared her teeth at him in rage. "We helped you, and this is how you repay our kindness. You _lied_ to us."

"Guilty," he nodded sadly in mock contrition. "It appears that I did. But thank you for your service. I'm sorry things have to end this way. Working with you all was a true pleasure. Now, I'm afraid I have to leave to prepare for my meeting with your little friends tomorrow," he bowed. "I wish you a good day."

" _Don't think this is the end!_ " Konan shouted down the hall as Hatsuharu's footsteps headed towards the door. " _You won't get away with this!_ "

Hatsuharu's laugh echoed down the hallway. "I'm the son of _Sanshouo no Hanzo_ ; I can get away with _anything_."


	38. Chapter 38

Few believed water had ever flowed through Ghost River Canyon. No remnant of civilization or life, beast or man, lined its dusty shore, and despite the blessing of constant rain fall, no plant sprouted within miles of its banks. Finding no readily available scientific explanation, most had concluded that the land was simply cursed and resolved to stay away. However, for those bold enough to brave the superstition, it provided the perfect safe haven.

 _No wonder the Akatsuki chose this place_. Had they not disclosed their location as the rendezvous point for today's meeting, no one would have thought to look for them here. It was the perfect hideout. And after today, _it would make an even more perfect grave_.

On the ledge far above, Hatsuharu took a break from his work to wipe the mud from his hands and survey the desolate landscape. A half hour before dawn, his father would arrive at any moment.

Sure enough, not long after Hatsuharu's men had planted the last paper bomb beneath the thick muck beneath them, a crowd of dark specters processed into view. In addition to his father's special forces, he discerned a significant number of foreign, masked figures, no doubt Danzo's anbu. In the front, Hanzo towered above them all, his golden eyes glittering and dangerous.

"Are preparations complete?"

"Sir," Hatsuharu affirmed. "They are below the ground upon which you stand."

Kneeling, Hanzo brushed the damp earth until the edge of an explosive tag came into view. "One must always be prepared." He nodded with satisfaction and reburied the paper.

Hatsuharu was that all was going as planned until his ears pricked at the sound of approaching horse hooves signaling his sister's unanticipated arrival.

"Brother," she called once within earshot, "instruct us where to stand. Our men must remain out of the tag's perimeter, should we need them."

Hatsuharu's jaw clenched at the unwelcome sound of his sister's voice. He had not figured Kisa into his equation. _This was not the time or place for her_. For everyone's sake, it was best that she returned to the city.

 _Especially his own_.

Kisa's eye for justice was far too keen. If she sensed something strange afoot, she would not hesitate to call it to their father's attention. _The last thing he needed was for Hanzo to question the execution_.

"No one called for the cavalry, sister dear. My lord, given the personal and unpredictable nature of this conflict, I think it best that Kisa return home."

"Thank you for your concern, brother, but I will see justice dealt with my own eyes."

Distracted, Hanzo continued his survey of the premises. "Kisa may stay," he replied, unconcerned.

"And my lord," Danzo emerged from the cluster of his men and bowed, "rest assured, you have my forces should Lady Kisa need protection."

"Your assistance is unnecessary," he responded gruffly. Between himself, his traps, and his men, nothing could go wrong.

Few adversaries had ever warranted this amount of preparation. In the past, he had taken on armies without so much as a second thought. For him, this style execution was overkill. And yet, at the same time, _it wasn't enough_. Obliterating them a thousand times over would never be enough. Instead, he would have to settle for making their deaths as physically and psychologically painful as possible.

" _They are finished_."

Dawn approached slowly, reluctant to witness the assembly's dark errand. Only faint glimmers of grey through the charcoal black rainclouds blanketing the sky indicated her inevitable yet unenthusiastic presence. Despite the absence of daylight, the Akatsuki arrived at the appointed hour, alerting Hanzo's sensors with their chakra long before coming into view of the canyon ledge.

"They have arrived, my Lord."

"How many?"

"Two; just as we expected."

"Is that all?" Kisa asked, dismounting from her horse. "I don't understand. Why would they send so few? Could it be a trap?"

"Sister, if you must stay, be quiet and don't interfere," Hatsuharu shushed. "All is going according to plan. Your questions will only distract Father."

Glancing at the three dozen men assembled behind her, Kisa's frown deepened in suspicion. "Why bring so many for a target so small? Can the Akatsuki possibly be that powerful?" Heart quickening, Kisa's hand reached instinctively for the scroll fastened to her belt. Not knowing what to expect, she had spent the last several days preparing the forbidden technique and herself should danger appear. While her mastery over the jutsu was nowhere near complete, she would not hesitate to use it at the first sign of trouble.

" _Shh_ ," Hatsuharu silenced her with his index finger. "We'll soon find out." Following the direction of her brother's eyes, she caught the first glimpse of their approaching adversaries.

Meanwhile, in the canyon far below, Yahiko and Nagato lifted their sights to Hanzo in confusion. While Yahiko thought he had followed the messenger's directions, clearly there had been some mistake.

"Nagato, we were told to meet at the base of the canyon, weren't we?"

"That's what I recall. But no worries," he gave his friend's shoulder a reassuring pat. "One swift leap can fix that. Race you to the top?"

" _Ha_. Only if you want to look like a loser in front of Lord Hanzo."

Yahiko beamed. The Akatsuki was only a small jump away from gaining Hanzo's acceptance and permission to implement their plans for peace through an agreement that would change their lives, Amegakure, and the world forever.

"Good morning, my lord," he called to the shinobi on the ledge above them. "Give us a moment and we will come to you. It appears we were mistaken about the rendezvous point."

Crossing his arms, Hanzo returned their smiles with a furious gaze. _No doubt they were laughing at him, believing him to be fooled into welcoming them into his circle after their trickery_. Their open contempt made his blood boil.

"There is no mistake," Hanzo barked. "I called you there to remind you of your rightful place. It appears you have forgotten, _Yahiko_."

Stunned by his harsh tone, the two Akatsuki exchanged a look of surprised concern.

"Lord Hanzo, I don't understand, has the Akatsuki done something to displease you?" Yahiko's mind reeled, his optimism from seconds before now supplanted entirely by alarm and confusion. Recalling all the organization's missions over the past few months, he could think of none that would offend the village head.

"Don't play games with me, boy! You fools don't think I know you're behind the deaths of my men? My _wife?!_ I understand very well what you're doing, establishing yourselves as 'peacekeepers' while conspiring to make me look weak! _To take my place!_ You honestly believe you're capable of defeating _me?!_ I will make you pay dearly for your treason. _Guards_ ," he ordered, "bring me the prisoner."

Shock and fear replaced Yahiko's confusion. His mind whirled, struggling to process the weighty accusations thrust upon his organization's shoulders. He had to think quickly to clear up this mistake and to protect himself and Nagato from Hanzo's wrath.

"Lord Hanzo, there has been some terrible mistake. Your men and Lady Shiori, the Akatsuki had nothing to do with any of it! We've been framed, likely by the very person responsible for these tragedies. Please let us work with you to get to the bottom-"

The sight of a familiar head of blue hair made Yahiko's next words die upon his tongue. _They had Konan_. Bound, she was ushered before Hanzo. Though stories above them, he could clearly see her features contorted with anxiety.

Yahiko's palms began to sweat. Believing her out on patrol, the idea that she could be in harm's way had never crossed his mind. His heart pounded painfully in fear for his friend's safety, and anger that he had failed so miserably to protect her.

" _Konan!_ Please let her go! Let's talk about this!"

" _No!_ Your organization has become a nuisance to me. Yahiko," he said, raising his kunai, "as the leader, you must die. If you try to oppose me, this woman is dead," he threatened, raising the blade to Konan's throat.

Kisa gasped at the brutal display. Her father could be fierce, and he could be ruthless, but she had never seen him vicious. Upon closer inspection, a strange bloodthirstiness similar to that of a caged, abused lion lurked behind his eyes. It made her feel uncertain, afraid the man before her was no longer her father and village head. "Fa-"

" _Don't interfere_ ," Hatsuharu gripped her arm, holding her back. "He knows what he's doing."

Biting her tongue and shooting her brother an angry glance, Kisa freed her arm with a violent tug and resigned herself to watch.

Oblivious to all except the Akatsuki shinobi below him, Hanzo threw his kunai into the canon at Nagato's feet. "You, with the red hair," Hanzo directed, "use that to kill Yahiko. If you do that, I'll let you and the woman live." Hanzo's eyes narrowed in amusement at the cruel deception. _None of them would survive this encounter_. As Yahiko lay dying, he would ensure that the last thing he saw was this woman's death. He only hoped that she meant a fraction to Yahiko as Shiori had meant to him.

Konan wriggled against Hanzo's grip. "Nagato, don't! Forget about me; just run away, both of you!"

 _Sorry Konan_. Yahiko knew better than to believe Hanzo, but he also knew he had no choice. The Rain leader could end Konan's life in a split second. _There was no alternative_. "Nagato," he resolved, "kill me."

Reeling in shock, his companion began to hyperventilate and regarded him with terror stricken eyes. " _Nagato!_ " Yahiko pleaded. _There was no time for hesitation_.

" _Stop it!_ " Konan begged, now frantically attempting to free herself from the tyrant's grip. Weak from interrogation and her night in captivity, she was no match for his strength.

" _Hurry it up!_ " Hanzo tightened his grip. "Or will you let this woman die?!"

Though the kunai lay before him in plain sight, Nagato plodded towards it as though blind. _He had to think of something_. With Konan in Hanzo's clutches and Yahiko resolved to sacrifice himself, he was their last hope. Panic, however, had overridden his brain. By the time he lifted the cool steel in his hands, he was no closer to a solution than before. A lifetime of shinobi training had flown from his mind like dandelions in the breeze.

"Konan?" he gasped between labored breaths, suddenly confused. His chest constricted, causing him to feel dizzy and disoriented to the point where he could no longer recognize the weapon in his hands. _Yahiko. Yahiko, help me!_ "Yahi-"

Nagato was suddenly silenced by Yahiko's sudden impact against him, sending him stumbling backwards until he regained footing enough to support himself and his friend. For a moment, the two stood that way in silence except for their shallow breaths and the heavy pelting of rain around them until a liquid too warm to be mistaken for water trickled across Nagato's hand.

Yahiko smiled at the flawless execution of his suicide. Now assured that his friend's hands would remain clean and Konan's life was no longer in danger, he welcomed oblivion. "Nagato," he whispered into his comrade's ear, "live . . . no matter what it takes, you and Konan . . . you are . . . the savior of this world. I know you can . . . do it . . ."

Blessing bestowed, Yahiko's body slumped to the ground while his spirit soared above.

It wasn't until he heard Konan's piercing shriek that Nagato registered his friend below him, a puddle of blood quickly forming about his body.

Above, Hanzo allowed the woman to fall to her knees, shaking with grief. For a moment, he gazed in satisfaction at the fallen Akatsuki leader, cementing the image in his brain as a source of consolation. _Shiori was avenged_. Now that he could mourn in peace, all that was left to do was ensure that none remained to mourn his enemy.

" _Kill them!_ "

At his command, his frontline flung a barrage of kunai towards Nagato.

Rage awakened Nagato to reality. The peaceful objective of this meeting long forgotten, he resolved to destroy every last man and woman under Hanzo's control. Deflecting the kunai with a powerful burst of chakra, Nagato took advantage of the shinobi's confusion to act. A swift leap propelled him to the top of the cliff where Konan shrank beside Hanzo.

Prepared for his arrival, Hanzo jumped backwards and lowered his palms to the ground to activate the seals around the two Akatsuki. At the pulse of his chakra, hundreds of cleverly concealed bombs rose from the mud and encircled Nagato's legs as he lifted Konan into his arms. Their target reached, the bombs ignited, illuminating the sky with an angry red glow. Below them, the ground shook and collapsed into the canyon below.

"Did we get him?" Remaining alert, Hanzo strained his eyes through the smoke. As the heavy rain quickly extinguished the flames, he frowned in annoyance at the sight of the redhead far below still in one piece, though badly crippled.

After Nagato lowered her gently to the canyon floor and freed her from her bindings, Konan gasped at the condition of his angry, torn flesh. "Nagato-"

"Konan, stay by Yahiko! Just hang on!" Nagato did not want to be reminded of his injury. Until he had eliminated Hanzo, he could not let it affect him. Ignoring his pain, Nagato turned his undivided attention to Hanzo above.

"Impressive, boy," he called from the smoking ledge. "You escaped even while being hit by my fire release."

Once Hanzo was in sight, Nagato activated his kekkei genkai, causing black rings to ripple around his pupils. The Rinnegan, his mysterious power, was poorly understood even to himself. While he did not know the full extent of its potential, he knew it was their only chance for survival.

Though Hanzo had never seen the legendary kekkei genkai firsthand, he recognized its peculiar appearance instantly. " _You!_ You're no ordinary brat," he realized, his brows raising in alarm. " _Those eyes_ . . ."

Equally alarmed by the Rinnegan's appearance, Danzo signaled his anbu to attack. While ideally Hanzo would also perish during this struggle, he could not allow the Rinnegan wielder to threaten the Leaf Village. For now at least, he and the Rain village head fought against a common threat.

" _Kill them!_ "

As Danzo's forces leapt into the canyon to attack, Nagato struck the earth with his palm. " _Kuchiyose Summoning: Gedou Statue!_ "

Suddenly, a giant hand burst from the ground, striking the oncoming attackers and hurling them into the cliff. Soon after, it was joined by a second hand which braced itself against the surface to pull the remainder of its terrible figure from the depths. Dozens of trunk-like spikes pierced the ground, followed by a gigantesque body which stretched far above the surrounding cliffs. Its face, if it could be called a face, was masked with a white cloth, revealing nothing save for a horrible, fanged mouth. Now birthed from the earth, it produced a newborn cry which rumbled the earth and shook the sky.

" _What is that?_ " In battle, Hanzo had witnessed many summoned creatures, but none so large or alien. For a moment, he was overcome with professional curiosity. _Was this the power of the Rinnegan?_ And regardless, _what was it capable of?_ While part of him admittedly wished to test its strength, he could not chance defeat.

As Hanzo prepared his next move, he observed a metal rod descend form the beast and pierce the Rinnegan wielder's back, draining his chakra and pooling it into the beast's glowing mouth. The more life it stole, the brighter the ball of energy became until it sprouted from the fanged cavity in the form of a serpentine dragon. Snaking up the cliff, it descended upon Hanzo's forces with an otherworldly roar, its very touch ripping his men's souls from their bodies.

Panic erupted throughout the battlefield, as both Amegakure shinobi and anbu retreated from the front line.

" _If you touch that thing, you're dead!_ "

Danzo cursed. Having already lost the bulk of his men to the beast's palm, he had no option but to collect the reminder of his men and retreat quickly. _Hanzo would have to duke this one out on his own_. Whoever the victor might be, Danzo would contend with them later.

" _Anbu!_ " he ordered. " _Fall back!_ "

Though chaos erupted around him, Hanzo remained planted to the ground, frozen in awe over the beast's strange power. Setting its sights upon him, the monster slithered slowly towards him.

"So you were the leader behind the shadows? I'm surprised that you possess the Rinnegan," he wondered aloud. As the dragon reared up its head to strike, Hanzo waved a sign to retreat, his teleportation technique activating just before what would have been a death blow.

From a safe distance, Hatsuharu and Kisa watched the unfolding events with alarmed concern. " _Hatsu, Father's in trouble!_ "

"Yes, but he's perfectly capable of retreating, as are we." Beads of sweat began to form upon Hatsuharu's brow as he searched for an escape route. The dragon, while focused upon his father, had surrounded their men with its elongated body. "Problem is, until we take out the redhead controlling this thing, there's no safe way out."

Peering over the ledge, Kisa studied the boy at the base of the titan. Clearly, the rods connecting the two were the source of the beast's power. If she wanted to save her father and her people, they had to be broken. Once more, her hand instinctively fell to the scroll at her waist. _Its time had come_.

"Leave this to me."

Before her brother could protest, Kisa unfastened her whip and launched herself into the canyon. Though the beast's attention was turned totally to her father, its looming form chilled her. Forcing herself to focus through her fear, she mouthed the words she had practiced countless times over the last forty-eight hours.

" _Secret Art! Kurai mori no kuroi kokoro!_ "

Chakra, wispy and black, began to circle her arms as she felt her muscles strengthen with foreign energy. She prayed it would be enough. Because she had not perfected the technique, she could not use it to its full efficacy. To make matters worse, the forbidden art borrowed from lifeforms around her to augment her own, but with no foliage around her, the ground could only lend so much aid.

Her shadow now eclipsing the sinister rods, she poised her whip to strike. The cord landed true, wrapping itself several times around the steel as Kisa landed to the ground and pulled with all her might.

Pain, both from the strain of her exertion and the strange black vapor, seared her arms. Her feet slipping, she struggled to brace herself against the ground as the beams slowly began to bend beneath her might. Though they budged, Kisa soon realized she could not break them before her strength gave out. Already, the darkness of unconsciousness flooded her vision.

" _Dammit body_ ," she groaned, "you can do whatever you like once we're through." Even if it cost her life, she would not let up until the scroll her mother risked everything to save rescued them all.

" _Mother_ ," she said, gritting her teeth, "this one . . . _is for you!_ "

A final tug sent her flying to the ground, the rods snapping beneath the force of her whip with a sharp clatter. Mission accomplished, relief flooded her shaky and weary limbs as she welcomed the peace of oblivion.


	39. Chapter 39

"If the doctors say there's nothing more to be done, there's nothing I can do."

Hatsuharu groaned. "Humility will get you nowhere in life, Yemon. If you want to be a doctor at an _actual_ clinic, you have to distinguish yourself somehow. That's what you really want, isn't it? A career in medicine? Honestly, I think it's the right move for you since you're just a half-assed shinobi as it is."

Yemon's face soured, but he couldn't deny it. The more responsibility he took on at the volunteer clinic, the less motivated he found himself to train for shinobi missions. As long as he was torn between the two roles, he realized, he would never excel at either. "You think I should quit working for you?"

"I think you should make up your damn mind. And _this_ is a golden opportunity for you. Help Kisa, and Lord Hanzo will make you surgeon general."

 _Yeah, but if he hurt Kisa further, Lord Hanzo would make him a tally mark on this hit list_. From Hatsuharu's description of her condition and the doctors' prescriptions and procedures, there was little he would recommend further. Besides, it wasn't only his inexperience which gave him pause, it was also the patient herself.

Fierce and proud, the village head daughter's commanding presence always struck him speechless with awe. He had no right to speak to her, and certainly nothing to say that would interest her. She likely had a low opinion of him, if any opinion at all. Offering unhelpful advice would only further lower him in her eyes.

 _Still, if there was a chance he could help her, shouldn't he at least try?_ After all, Kisa nearly sacrificed her life to save them all that day. His risk was nothing in comparison, and the rewards if he succeeded were too alluring for his heart to ignore.

"Fine," he resolved. "I'll see what I can do."

Drowsy from medicine and a constant, dull pain in her arms, Kisa barely registered the arrival of her two new guests. Likewise, the events over the past however many hours, the battle, the rescue, and the endless stream of doctors coming and going from her room, were all jumbled and confused. A voice in her head told her that she could make sense of it all if she tried, that her mind wasn't as dull as she'd convinced herself it was. That she was purposefully holding herself back, fearful of what devastating discoveries awaited her in the waking world.

"Tisk, tisk, Kisa. Sleeping in until 6:00 PM? This simply isn't like you. Why don't you wake up now to greet your guests. I've brought Yemon. The male nurse, remember?"

Hatsuharu's voice cut through whatever fog barrier she'd erected around her brain, forcing her to open her eyes. At first blurry, the two figures, her brother and the hulk of a man that frequently accompanied him, came into focus. They kneeled side by side next to her makeshift bed on the sitting room floor. Fortunately for Yemon, someone had moved her to this larger room to accommodate the periodic raids of medical staff. She doubted he would fit in her modest bedroom. Her first chance to study him at length up close, Kisa scanned the shinobi doctor with a curious eye. Initially, she recalled, Hatsuharu had recruited the man and his sister for their unusual abilities. Yet, instead of his usual shinobi apparel, Yemon today wore a white smock and spectacles. Beside him sat a bulky and worn medical chest. _Hatsuharu brought him to treat her_ , she realized.

"Lady Kisa, with your permission, I would like to have a look at your injuries. I've already told Hatsu that there is likely nothing I can do, however, if your previous doctors have no shinobi experience, it's possible they may have overlooked something. Will you allow me to proceed?"

 _She should say no_. What fool would place their health in the hands of an amateur? Yet, like a startled horse, she found Yemon's cool confidence and honesty strangely comforting. Besides, if Hatsuharu had faith enough to bring him here, the nurse would do her no harm.

"You may," she whispered hoarsely.

With Kisa's permission, Yemon opened his father's old chest and unpacked a new pair of gloves, gauze, medical tape, forceps, and a variety of ointments. Unsure of the nature of her injury, there was little more he could do today than inspect the wound and treat inflammation.

"Hatsu, for this next part, may I request a moment of privacy?"

"Trust me, you don't even have to ask," Hatsuharu grimaced and skittered to the far end of the room, taking a seat facing the wall. "Though I would like to stay to hear your prognosis."

Hatsuharu now out of his hair, Yemon gently peeled away the light layers of Kisa's blankets until she was bare before him, save for a small cloth around her waist and thick bandages fully wrapping both arms. A quick inspection of her legs and torso confirmed that her injuries were restricted to her arms.

"I will need to remove your bandages for a moment. Tell me if this causes you any discomfort," Yemon instructed, proceeding to unravel the medical tape around her shoulder. If the motion caused her pain, Kisa didn't say a word. Instead her eyes migrated slowly from his busy hand to his face, her expression inscrutable. In any other instance, her stare caused him to break into a cold sweat, but here, she was the same as any other patient, his smock and gloves serving as effective armor against her intimidation.

Once Yemon unraveled the final layer, his brows furrowed in concentration. The flesh beneath was an angry, leathery red, punctuated with blisters as though burned, but not by fire or chemical. Her skin lacked the traditional peeling and char he'd seen in traditional burns. Turning his attention to her bandages, the scent of aloe and salves indicated that while the previous doctors were treating her flesh's inflammation, they evidently had not determined how to proceed with the deeper trauma that lay beneath.

"Things are awfully quiet over there." Hatsuharu whistled, no longer entertained by the sitting room wall. "A ryo for your thoughts?"

"The skin is burned. Judging from the texture, it appears that the chakra burn, for lack of a better term, has penetrated the stratum granulosum."

"Which means . . . what, precisely?"

"Which means that the burn reached the third epidermal layer. There's likely extensive damage to both the skin and nerves beneath."

"A burn? That sounds easy enough to treat."

"Most of the time, yes," Yemon agreed. "However, I can see why this case is giving the doctors trouble. While most third degree burns are treated with surgery, here, I don't think that would do any good. Save for a few blisters, the skin appears relatively pliable. Depending on the level of nerve damage, you should be able to use your hands and fingers after physical therapy, Lady Kisa."

Kisa returned his optimistic prognosis with an unenthused stare. "But I won't be able to use ninjutsu, will I?"

"No. Not from your hands and arms, at least. The scar tissue has completely blocked your chakra pathway system." Yemon hated to be the bearer of bad news, but Kisa deserved to know the truth. Concealing the information now would do little to lessen the future blow.

"And there's nothing you can do?"

Yemon rubbed his chin in thought. Then, retrieving a stray acupuncture needle from the bottom of his chest, he pulsed chakra into his forefinger and thumb until rough, uncut crystals appeared. "With my diamond kekkei genkai, I may be able to sharpen needles small but strong enough to puncture the scar tissue and reconnect your chakra pathways to the surface. However, it would take hundreds of needles in each arm to make any difference, if you could even find the tunnels to begin with. I've never heard of anything save for the Hyuuga byakugan able to do such a thing."

"Hyuuga?" Hatsuharu's ears pricked in interest. "As in, the Konoha clan?"

"That's right. Among its other abilities, the byakugan when activated can pinpoint tenketsu, the pressure points where chakra exits the body." Applying fresh salve to Kisa's arms, Yemon gently wrapped them in fresh bandages and returned them to her sides. "I've finished here, Hatsu. You can turn around now."

"You know, Kisa," Hatsuharu said, rejoining them on the floor, "I seem to recall our mother once had a Hyuuga acquaintance in Konoha. Perhaps it's time to pay her a visit?"

Exhausted by both the interaction and the distressing news, Kisa shook her head weakly. "There's no way Konoha would risk one of their kekkei genkai falling into our hands. And after the war, I doubt they'd let any of us set foot in the Land of Fire."

"Don't be so sure." Opening his satchel, Hatsuharu rummaged through its contents until he came upon an elegant, green parchment. "This arrived the day after mother passed. It's an invitation to our dear old, Uncle Ayame's birthday party."

"An obvious trap."

"Perhaps, but I don't think so. Konoha is still licking its wounds from the war as well. Now isn't an opportune time for them to pick a fight. And the language here sounds awfully contrite. Listen to this. _'_ _Dear Sister, I extend this invitation to your family not to celebrate my birth, but instead to put aside the past discord between us and commence an era of peace and collaboration.'_ Now doesn't he sound like a dear, old man?"

Kisa and Yemon exchanged dubious glances.

"I think it's only fitting you go in our mother's place. The party is three days, so if you leave by tonight, you should arrive in time. After the festivities, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to help you hunt down Mother's old Hyuuga friend."

"There's no guarantee of that," Yemon said, frowning. "And Lady Kisa is in no condition to travel."

"And _that_ , my friend, is why you will go with her. Miss Hyuuga can't work her magic without your needles, after all. What do you say, Kisa?"

Kisa considered. Her gut instinct sided against it. With her mother's murderers still on the loose, her place was here with her father and people. But at the same time, what good was her presence if she couldn't lift a finger against them? She would only be in the way. And if she never recovered, she would only become a burden for her father and brothers to protect. That realization left her with no choice.

"I'll go."

"Splendid!" Hatsuharu bounced from the floor. "I'll organize a team to pack your bags and transport you. Since you are mother's size, you can wear one of her robes to the party."

"Lord Hanzo will never permit this," Yemon protested.

"Oh yes he will if it's the only thing that can save his little girl. Leave the explanations to me."

"Hatsu-"

"Don't worry, Yemon," Hatsuharu said dismissively on his way out, "I'll take especially good care of your mother." He winked.

"-may I have a word, please?" Bounding after him into the hallway, Yemon lay a heavy grip on his shoulder. "Listen to me. This is a terrible idea and you know it. If her condition worsens, it will be the death of both of us."

"Nope." Hatsuharu brushed his hand aside. "Just you. So I suggest you do your best. But don't worry, I have full confidence in your abilities."

"What is this really about?" Yemon persisted. "Why do you want her out of the picture so badly? It's guilt, isn't it. You can deny it, but your symptoms are far easier to diagnose than your sister's. Had you told the truth from the beginning about the Akatsuki, this mess never would have happened."

Suddenly, Hatsuharu stopped and turned to face Yemon. His mouth, without its usual jovial mask, looked pinched and tired, and his eyes stressed and weary.

"Then the least I can do is give her her best shot at recovery. You said it yourself. The byakugan is her only chance. And if she doesn't leave now before my father returns, you're right. He'll never authorize this mission. This is our only shot, so I suggest you pack your bags and get out of my sight."

Without further word, Hatsuharu plodded down the hall, the weight of the world echoing in every footstep.


	40. Chapter 40

Ayame absentmindedly poked his yokan, completely unenthused by the jelly dessert. With each stab of his chopstick, his reflection upon its shiny surface expanded and contracted into impossible contortions. Though he usually relished this birthday treat, today, appetite held no sway over him.

A warm hand brushed the small of his back. To his right, his wife Yuka raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry. _She was offering her assistance_. Some days, his hands trembled so fiercely that he could scarce bring a bite to his lips, but today his symptoms were mild. Slightly embarrassed, he made a point of steadily resting his chopsticks on their block.

"It's nothing. I was just playing with my food."

Yuka snorted. "I thought you were turning sixty, not six. Have a care before you make a scene in front of the company."

"We've no need to worry about that." He scanned the table of silent guests. "It appears everyone is distracted this evening." _Himself included_. Shiori's death had reached Konohagakure only two days before, and the nation's elite had talked of little else ever since. Not openly to his face of course since in the past mention of her name would send him into a fit of ill temper, but in hushed whispers. Even though he could not make out their words, the emotion behind them was unmistakable: _fear_. If an assassin could slip under even Lord Hanzo's nose, no noble was safe. Their self-importance made him smirk.

While he had extended an invitation to his sister and her family before the incident, there was no telling now whether she had accepted, let alone received it. His heart sank at the realization that he would never know, that he would never have the chance at reconciliation. Lost in thoughts of his sister, it was no wonder he jumped along with his guests when their waiter made a sudden, unexpected announcement.

"My Lord, Lady Hattori has just arrived."

* * *

While Kisa knew better than to expect a warm welcome, she was not prepared for the collective look of terror which greeted her at her uncle's table. _You'd think they'd seen a ghost_. Disconcerted, she felt her hand tighten around Yemon's arm.

"Careful. Any movement and you'll hurt yourself." Yemon said, quietly.

Feeling a sharp sting, Kisa loosened her grasp and slowly exhaled. She needed a cool head to navigate this awkward situation. There had been no time to RSVP, and Konohagakure certainly would not expect her given her mother's recent death. The surprise probably left her uncle and his guests as tongue-tied as she was. Raising her chin, she tried to summon her father's poise.

"Good evening Uncle. Forgive our lateness," she added, noticing their cleared dishes and dirtied napkins. "I have come to represent my family and my country in wishing you an auspicious birthday." The stilted line sounded insincere even to her ears.

At that, the decadent figure at the head of the table stood, his hair a thick but slightly faded orange that likely forecasted the future of her own. Studying him, she noticed a slight shake in his hands, which he quickly concealed by clasping them together under his sleeves.

"This _is_ a surprise, but not an unwanted one. You are most welcome to Konohagakure." To Kisa's surprise, her uncle's greeting sounded warm, genuine even. "You must be famished from your journey. Please join us."

Recovered from their initial shock, Ayame's guests rocketed to their feet as propriety dictated, but continued to stare at her with curiosity and anticipation as though she were the night's entertainment. Despite her hunger, nothing that moment tempted her more than dashing their hopes. "Thank you, but I do not wish to detain your guests who have already finished their meal, and I am fatigued from my travels. My escort and I will retire now."

"Of course," Ayame said, relief permeating his voice. "Then if my guests will excuse me, it will be my honor to escort you to your chambers and oversee their preparation personally."

When her uncle extended his arm, Kisa accepted it with reluctance. She wanted to hide her condition as much as he wanted to conceal his. Though his eyes raised in interest when she placed her bandaged arm over his, fortunately he had sense enough not to comment. Had she known he would have insisted on escorting her to her chamber, she would rather have remained at the far end of the dining table. Their current proximity peeved her. His adversarial relationship to her family till this point gave him no right to treat her with such familiarity. Equally displeased, Yemon walked in step behind them, his eyes locked on to her arm like a dog to a bone.

"Kisa, is it? The second child. Now that I think of it, I don't believe we have ever met."

"That should come as no surprise."

Ayame ignored her. "I wish Shiori had at least sent a picture, so I could have known of our resemblance." His focus returned to her orange hair. "It pleases me greatly to see that my father and grandfather's likeness will live on."

Kisa could care less about the legacy of the lords of Konohagakure, but she succeeded in biting her tongue this time.

"Your mother, did she receive my invitation?"

"Not before she passed."

"How unfortunate." Ayame looked crestfallen. "I would have liked to know if she would accept. Did she-" Ayame paused, deciding not to interrogate his travel-weary guests. "Never mind that. We have much to discuss, but questions that have gone unanswered for decades can wait until morning. You are tired. And injured?" His eyes revisited the bandaged arm resting upon his own.

Kisa scowled at the unpleasant reminder. "Yes. A mission of mine went awry. While we're on the topic, I believe there was a Hyuuga in my mother's service during her youth that could be of use to my recovery. With your assistance, I wish to send for her immediately."

His face pinched into a sour expression. "Believe me when I say that woman will bring you nothing but trouble." He shook his head. "I'm certain she would be no help to you. Allow me to suggest an alternative. As you may have noticed, my hands are also not what they once were." He said, pulling back the brocaded silk of his robes to reveal his shaking palms. "Were it not for one of my kunoichi in the Hidden Leaf, I fear my condition would have progressed much further. If I send for her this evening, she should arrive by tomorrow morning."

Behind them, Kisa heard Yemon inhale to voice his protest but managed to silence him with a sharp backwards glance. "Thank you for your generosity, Uncle. You have been far too kind." While still far too soon for the daimyo to earn her trust, she begrudgingly gave him marks for hospitality.

"Think nothing of it. I have much to atone for the treatment of your family."

 _Not to mention my country_ , she wanted to say. But this was not the time to hurl accusations. She needed to get what she came for first. Until her arms saw some improvement, she would play the mild-mannered guest. "Atonement to me is unnecessary. I understand how war can strain even blood relations."

"If only the war were fully to blame. As you are aware, the strife between your parents and myself predates the war by many decades. I had hoped that this invitation would be the first of many actions to mend the rift I tore."

"I am not aware." Kisa raised a curious brow. "My mother spoke little of her youth in Konoha." Whatever offense Ayame felt he committed against her mother has evidently plagued him for many years. Yet, whatever this supposed sin may have been, her mother never mentioned it. Come to think of it, she'd rarely mentioned her brother at all. Perhaps her mother's omission of Ayame spoke volumes in and of itself.

"She never told you," he marveled more to himself than to her. "Suffice it to say, it was my cruelty which drove your mother from her home. I regret that I've lost my opportunity to make amends, but at least have been given the chance to make it up to you."

Whatever was motivating her uncle, whether it be regret, hospitality, or genuine kindness, Kisa didn't care as long as it got the job done. However, Ayame's insistence on his personal doctor frustrated her plans.

"Do you trust this doctor of his?" Kisa asked Yemon as soon as their apartments were readied and her uncle had finally left them alone.

"Unless it's another Hyuuga, no." Yemon said, unraveling the soiled gauze from her arm in preparation for a new coat of salve. "As soon as I rebandage you, I'll look for her myself."

"I forbid you from snooping around Konoha at night." All the fire nation needed was to capture one Amegakure spy to rekindle the great war.

"Trust me. I'll have her here by morning."

"And if you're not back by then?" She didn't try to hide the skepticism in her voice.

"I will be."

* * *

 _Serves me right for trusting a male nurse_.

As dawn broke, Kisa was unsurprised to find Yemon absent and his quarters undisturbed. Clumsily dressing by herself, she scowled in frustration at her lack of dexterity. _Forget the Hyuuga_. At this point, she would try anyone who could cure her helplessness. If that meant placing her faith in the hands of Ayame's pet, so be it.

After breakfast, an escort waiting outside her room led her to Ayame's receiving room. Though still early, he was already fully dressed and receiving his first appointment of the day, a muscular blonde woman with two loose pigtails falling down her back. Bandage wrappings around her legs and metal plates over her gloves indicated that this was no civilian. This was her promised kunoichi doctor.

"Ah, I'm pleased to see you're an early riser like myself, niece." Ayame shot her an approving smile from his plush chair. "Allow me to introduce my talented and trusted physician, Tsunade of the Senju clan. Granddaughter of the First Hokage, and one of only three survivors against your father, Lord Hanzo, in the Battle of Weeping Plains."

Kisa's eyes widened. Though she had not witnessed the battle firsthand, the tales her father told of singlehandedly cutting down Konohagakure's army were so vivid she could almost smell the blood of the battlefield. Only three Leaf ninja survived that day thanks to her father's mercy. That could only mean one thing. "You're one of the Sannin."

"That's right. I have your father to thank for that name, as well as my life, I guess. Since I owe him a favor, I've agreed to help you."

"If you heal as well as you fight, I'll accept."

"I might even heal better than I fight. During the war, Konoha lost almost all the few medical shinobi it had, so I started teaching myself and others medical jutsu. That and trying to establish a medical academy is all I'm up to these days."

"Establish an academy?" Kisa was impressed. "Then you must be very busy."

"I am. So if you're ready, I'd like to start straight away."

Kisa hesitated. Eager as she was to proceed, a shadow of suspicion tempered her enthusiasm. She would be a fool to place her hands in the life of such a powerful adversary, even a former one. If anything were to happen, she would be near powerless to defend herself in this current state. Fortunately, the sudden slide of the panel behind her cut her concerns short. Entering the room after a swift, deep bow, Yemon joined them and attached himself to her side in a mere two strides of his tall legs.

"Glad you could join us." Kisa said softly. While any other time she would hold him in contempt for his failed promise, she was relieved to have his protection. Yemon returned her words with a silent nod, his eyes darting about the room as if bored. If he felt any remorse for his failure, he didn't show it.

"Let's not waste any more of your time, Sannin. I'm ready to proceed."

"Excellent," Ayame folded his hands, pleased. "Thank you again for coming, Tsunade. My servant has prepared a room for you. Take good care of her and good luck."

"Don't worry about it, my lord. Her hands are in good hands. You two, follow me." Taking charge, Tsunade led them into the hallway and wasted no time firing questions. "Your arms, are they burned?"

"Yes, but by chakra, not fire."

"The result is the same." Yemon spoke at last. "The scar tissue is blocking her tenketsu, preventing her chakra from exiting its pathway."

"Then I'll unplug them. Simple as that," she waved them into an open door. The room, a converted guest room, had been rearranged and stocked to resemble a proper doctor's office. Instruments, gauzes, and potions lined each shelf and table. Taking quick stock of the inventory, Tsunade tossed Yemon a pair of surgical gloves. "You act like a doctor, so wash up and dress like one while I ready the anesthesia."

"There is no need to sedate me," Kisa frowned. "I do not fear pain."

Unfazed, Tsunade continued her preparations. "Yes, I know you're a big girl. But that won't stop you from flinching and ruining my work. To hit your tenketsu, I need as much precision as possible."

"She's right," Yemon agreed. "But don't worry. I won't leave your side while you're under."

Still wary from his first letdown, she nevertheless huffed in submission. Slumping onto the bed, Kisa allowed Tsunade to slip the elephant nozzle over her nose and mouth. After a few deep breaths, she felt her cares quickly slip away into a peaceful darkness.

"She's asleep now," Yemon confirmed.

"Well, I'm glad at least one thing is going right." Tsunade scowled. These acupuncture needles they've supplied us with are garbage. They couldn't pierce a rotten apple, let alone human skin."

"Then please use mine." Crouching to the floor, Yemon detached a satchel from his leg and offered it to her.

Studying its contents, a smile spread across her face. "These are impressive," she said, pulling a needle from the bag to inspect its sharpness. "I've never seen a point so fine. Where did you buy them?"

"I made them. My family and I, let's just say we have access to diamonds. I find they're useful in sharpening my equipment."

"So you're a doctor after all."

"An aspiring one," he corrected.

"I understand how that goes. Hey, here's a thought. Since you're so good at making your own needles, may I keep your spares? I have some books and charts you'd find helpful in return."

"Of course."

"Thanks. Now, let's see what can be done about her ladyship." Unraveling Kisa's bandages, her eyes appraised the extent of the unfolding damage. "This tissue is strange, and uneven. It appears you were right about the blockage. Fortunately, I remember where most of the tenketsu open from texts I've studied. I won't hit them all, but should find enough from memory."

"But sight is stronger than memory. And, from my experience, I find everyone and everyone's tenketsu are unique." Popping on a pair of vinyl gloves, a middle-aged woman with long pink hair and large, round rimmed glasses strode into the room.

" _Meroko?_ " Tsunade asked, flabbergasted. "What are you doing here? I'm going to have to ask you to leave. How did you even get in here?"

"While our daimyo would never let me set foot through the front door, his crawl space remains as undefended as ever. You might want to mention that to him." Meroko waved her hand dismissively.

Yemon heaved a sigh of relief. "Meroko Hyuuga. I'm glad you found a way in."

Tsunade glared at him. "You actually _invited_ her here?!"

"I've heard the Byuukugan is capable of detecting an individual's tenketsu. I don't doubt your ability, Sannin, but I insist on absolute precision for my lady."

"The boy has a good head on his shoulders," Meroko said, slapping his back in approval. "Tsunade, I'll point and you'll prick. How does that sound?"

"And just think of it this way," he argued. "With her eyes, you'll be finished in no time."

After a moment of consideration, the Sannin huffed. "Fine. But cause any trouble, and you're out of here." Tsunade pointed to the door.

"I solemnly swear to be on my best behavior." She promised, crossing her heart. "Now let's see what we can do for the poor girl."


	41. Chapter 41

At first, Kisa only felt mild discomfort emanating from her arms and a gentle warmth upon her face. Gradually, the warmth turned harsh and a whiteness filled her eyes. Squinting, she lifted her heavy lids to find the source of the oppressive heat.

A sun far brighter than any she had ever seen in Amegakure beamed through her bedroom windows. Judging from its position, it must be high noon. _Had she slept in that late?_ No, she remembered. Tentatively, she wiggled her fingers beneath the blanket. As far as she could tell, they were still bandaged and stiff, but concentrating, she could discern a faint tingling sensation.

"Good afternoon, sleeping beauty! Don't freak out if your skin feels itchy or pinched. That's just a side effect of unplugging a hundred or so of your chakra pathways."

Startled, Kisa's attention shot to the voice at the far end of the room. Sitting beside her opened screen door was a pink haired middle aged woman with large pink spectacles. The kimono she wore was a bright green ornamented with pink flowers and playful frogs. Altogether, the harmless looking ensemble filled her with mistrust.

"Who are you? Where is my guard?"

The woman in green poured herself a cup of tea from a set beside her on the floor, nonplused by her imperious tone. "Your white-haired friend? The one you sent to find me? He's just outside."

Tearing her eyes from the woman's clothes, recognition dawned as she met with the woman's pale, pupil-less eyes. "You're Meroko Hyuuga."

"Meroko Yamanaka these days, but the eyes don't lie." She tapped her glasses. "If you can, come join me for tea," she said, patting the space beside her. "I would wait another thirty minutes or so before eating, but I think a cup of tea is just what you need."

Kisa found herself following Meroko's motherly instructions. Kneeling beside her, she accepted the small, warm cup Meroko handed her.

"Would you prefer I hold it for you?"

"No," Kisa shook her head, ignoring a tinge of pain. "I can manage."

For a while, the two sat in companionable silence. The courtyard was completely still and quiet, save for an occasional gust of warm wind and chirping bird. Lulled by both the peaceful scene and lingering anesthesia, she had almost started to doze when she was suddenly startled by Meroko's voice.

"I was a good friend of your mother before she left Konoha," she said. "I regret I'll never have the chance to share a pot with her again. But knowing her, she'd probably rather have a glass of wine," she laughed.

"Yes. Although she didn't often speak of her childhood here, she did speak of you. That's how I knew to find you. I'm glad that despite the war, your feelings for my mother have not changed."

"War is our profession as shinobi. We can't take it personally. Besides, I was happy to see her make such a courageous move for Amegakure. I always wondered, but never had the opportunity to ask. Was your mother happy there?"

"Why wouldn't she be?" Kisa asked defensively. "My mother married the strongest man alive and helped build Amegakure from the ashes of civil war. She was happiest when working, and Amegakure was her never-ending project." For as long as she could remember, her mother's desk was covered in correspondence, proposed laws, budgets, and reports. While her father had been off waging war, her mother practically ran the country. "I have no idea how Amegakure will manage without her."

"Too true. Paperwork doesn't stop just because you do. I'm sure your father could use some extra help around the office. Have you considered taking her place?"

"I've no patience for paperwork and small talk with strangers," Kisa blurted only to realize she may have just insulted her companion.

This was precisely why she wasn't cut out for her mother's work. She wouldn't last five seconds before putting her foot in her mouth. Slip up like that in front of the wrong person, and you'd start the Third Shinobi World War.

"Paperwork and small talk? You don't give your mom enough credit. Her pen was just as powerful and important as your father's salamander." Meroko looked reproachful.

 _Terrific_. Now she'd insulted Meroko _and_ her mother. "I misspoke," she sighed, staring into her teacup to hide her frustrated scowl. "I meant that I could not possibly live up to their expectations. I haven't the skills or, in case you haven't noticed, the temperament."

"Whose expectations?" Meroko snorted. "Your father's? I think he can handle your smart mouth. Konoha's? Do you think your mother and father gave a damn about Konoha's expectations? Back in my day, your father was supposed to be just another petty warlord and Shiori was supposed to marry off into obscurity. They didn't get to where they are now by meeting expectations. Don't think you have to be like them to go even farther."

"That's a rosy sentiment. But I already have purpose. I'm a kunoichi, and my place is on my father's battlefield."

"It _was_."

An icy chill crawled its way up Kisa's spine. A painful knot formed in her throat. With difficulty, she swallowed it down. "This encouragement to take my mother's place, is it your honest opinion that I should? Or your polite way of telling my kunoichi career is over?"

"Both," she insisted. "We did everything we could, but your tenketsu are just too weak to support sustained use. If you overexert them, you'll injure yourself worse. I know it's difficult to hear, but I'm sure your father would rather see you retire than put yourself at risk."

The knot in Kisa's throat tightened and a moisture began to collect around her eyes. Suddenly she wanted to be alone.

"Thank you for all that you've done for me, but I wish to be alone now. Forgive me. I hope next time, we can meet under happier circumstances."

"Of course, you need rest. I'll be back in a few days to check on you _if_ I can skip past that wily daimyo," she winked. "He and I are not best friends, but that's a story for next time. Until then, take care."

Kisa nodded but didn't turn to watch her go until a second set of heavy, but softer footsteps sounded in the hall. After speaking a few, hushed words to Meroko, Yemon entered carrying a book the width of Kisa's forearm.

"So you found her after all. I owe you an apology for doubting you."

"Don't worry about it. I just asked several other shinobi where to find her and sent a note. The hardest part was helping her find where to sneak in this morning." He shrugged. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. But I confess I was hoping for better news. Is the Sannin still here? I would like a second opinion."

Yemon shook his head. "She left right after the procedure. But the three of us agreed. It's best not for you to stress those arms."

 _Well, no second opinion from him_. Once they were back in Amegakure, she could easily buy the professional opinion she wanted her father to hear. Until then, she decided it best to change the subject.

"That's quite the novel you have there. It must be very interesting to consume your attention when you should be guarding my unconscious body."

His face flushed with embarrassment. Kisa had to bite back a smile. Nothing made her feel better than making others uncomfortable, _especially_ burly Yemon.

"It's a medical textbook from Tsunade. She let me keep it in exchange for some of my acupuncture needles. Meroko said she was keeping her eye on you, so I was just reading until she left. I'm sorry."

"Then I hope you at least learned something useful."

"Actually, I have. The medical knowledge here, it's far more advanced than anything we have in Ame. They've discovered techniques for reconnecting fragmented bones and antidotes to many of the world's known poisons. Our knowledge and technology is lightyears behind, and I can't say I'm too surprised. I know I'm in no position to ask," he shuffled nervously, "but if you could ask for more books like this one, it could revolutionize the way we practice medicine. Our people could live longer lives, and we could cure our shinobi's now treatable injuries. We need to take advantage of this trip, of everything Konoha is willing to give us."

Kisa considered. Since the trip itself had been a selfish impulse from the start, she had not even considered the possibility of turning it into a mission. The thought pleased her. This errand would give her something useful to do as she recovered and would mean she wouldn't have to return to her father empty handed. He would not be pleased with her, but perhaps a gift of that magnitude would appease him. Most importantly, it would be a way to serve Amegakure from afar. She still felt more than a little guilty for abandoning her homeland during such a vulnerable time. This could begin to make things right.

"I'm listening. But who would lead the revolution? You? No established doctor would be caught dead practicing Konoha medicine. Too unpatriotic."

Yemon nodded. "I could teach myself and build a practice. The clinic where I work is in such dire need of volunteers, they wouldn't mind. Once we're the only place in town that can treat these conditions," he said, raising the book, "word will spread quickly."

"Which will mean more business than you can handle in your current hours. You realize this would mean giving up your shinobi career."

"I know. I've decided I can better serve my country this way."

"Just like that?" Kisa marveled. "When I was a child, becoming a kunoichi was my dream. I never considered anything else. Throwing that dream away is unfathomable to me."

Growing up, her father had been her ultimate idol. She wanted to be just like him, to be loved by him. _Would he still feel the same now that she was broken?_

"Probably because you were good at it. Although my grandfather was a shinobi and I learned from him, I don't think I ever excelled at it or wanted to be like him. It was never my true calling."

"Even so, doesn't it bother you? Completely changing direction?" Kisa wondered half aloud and half to herself.

"You know, we're not too old to be taught new tricks," Yemon said meaningfully.

Peering into his eyes, Kisa felt his sympathy and understanding. Still, it wasn't the same. Either this man _hated_ being a shinobi or was totally certain of himself. Maybe both. Either way, neither applied to her. She loved being a kunoichi and wasn't confident an administrative role suited her. Right now, she was too afraid to find out.

"I wish I could be as brave as you about starting over," she sighed.

"I'm not brave. I'd just rather give stiches than get them."

Kisa gripped her sides, dissolving into laughter. The sound was deep and unladylike, but made Yemon's stomach do a somersault. He doubted few besides himself had ever heard it.

"I never knew how droll you were," she said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Then maybe you should get to know me better."

Regretting the statement immediately, Yemon's face flushed an even darker crimson. This time, Kisa blushed too.

"I think I should," she said after a few moments of silence. "It would do us both good to remain here a while. You can ask the Sannin for more materials and instruction while I recover." The time away from home, away from the influence of her father, brother, and politicians would also clear hear head and give her an opportunity to reflect and plan her new life. That way, when she returned to Amegakure, she would be strong. She would be certain.

"Does that sound good to you?"

"That sounds good to me."


	42. Chapter 42

The thick jungles surrounding Konohagakure were its weakness as well as its strength, Kisa decided. While Amegakure's grass plains provided the capital city with the protection of visibility, the thick forests of the Land of Fire concealed both friend and foe. Even if they were more familiar with the terrain, the Leaf shinobi were as susceptible to ambush as anyone in this lush labyrinth.

Evidently, that prospect did not daunt her uncle Ayame. Riding a splendid chestnut mare, the man led their hunting party deep into the woods where light became sparse and the sounds of surrounding wildlife were almost deafening. Even though danger could be lurking behind any one of those twisted trunks, Ayame wasn't worried. That was his guard's job.

Ayame raised his hand, motioning the group to halt. Below him, his two hunting dogs wiggled their snouts in agitation.

"The dogs are onto something. We must be back on the boar's path."

"Then why are they sniffing the air?" Kisa leapt from her horse. "If that were the case, their noses would be to the ground. Perhaps it's something else."

 _God, she hoped it was something else_. Something _dangerous_. Her mended fingers itched for action. She swore they found their way to her waist and wrapped around her dusty whip all by themselves. After two months of recovery, she longed to show these men and her uncle that she was no fragile flower.

No doubt her uncle wanted to show them the same. On days when his hands steadied and strength returned, he insisted on these outings for both their sakes. It almost reminded of her of childhood afternoons spent exploring the wilderness with her father. _Almost_.

The dogs began to bark furiously at the sky as a black dot zoomed into focus.

"Is it an eagle? A falcon?" Ayame pressed his hand to his brow for a better look.

"No," Kisa said as her nose detected a faint, but distinct odor. "It's a condor."

No wonder the dogs were so agitated. The reek of the condor, probably one of Onmoraki's nieces or nephews, could be detected by trained noses dozens of miles away.

"Bloody bird has ruined the hunt," Ayame said, scowling. "The dogs won't be able to pick up a damn thing." Drawing an arrow from his quiver, Ayame positioned it against the limb of his bow.

"Hold your fire. That's no ordinary vulture."

With a frown of disgust, Ayame lowered his bow.

As the bird neared, Kisa's suspicions were confirmed. The condor, far larger than the average of its species, was headed straight for them. Straight for _her_. At length, she could discern a scroll attached to its left leg.

Kisa sighed. She had expected news from home. Actually, she had expected it much sooner. No doubt her father would have volumes to say about waltzing off into enemy territory without his authorization. When the bird finally landed, she unfastened the note with dread, half expecting the angry words to leap off the parchment and bark at her in her father's booming voice.

To her surprise, a cursory glance revealed Hatsuharu's handwriting. She felt both relief and disappointment. As much as she dreaded her father's wrath, she missed him.

However, the letter's contents caused her heart to sink again in concern.

 _"_ _Dear sister, I trust you've enjoyed your country retreat. Please return at your earliest convenience. We're experiencing a drought."_

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. A _drought_? Not likely. While the meaning of Hatsuharu's message was uncertain, what was very clear was that Amegakure was in trouble.

"I need to go."

"It's your father, isn't it? I'll send him my word that you are still recovering and insist you remain right where you are."

"It is not my father's decision, but my own. Forgive me for abandoning the hunt, but I must prepare for my departure immediately."

Ayame pouted like a small child who had just been refused a second helping of dessert. He had grown fond of his niece and had hoped that his attentions would convince her to stay. To her relief, however, he did not protest and ordered their party to retreat.

Despite his quick reaction and much to Kisa's chagrin, it took an hour to return to the capital city, an hour for Yemon to pack, and two additional hours to configure their newly acquired luggage in such a way that would permit both passengers inside. After an overly long and dramatized send off by her uncle, she was almost happy to squeeze herself inside between a pile of Yemon's newly acquired medical scrolls and a mountain of presents from her uncle. _Almost_.

"Comfy?" Yemon asked from behind an enormous volume of cellular biology.

Kisa glared at him.

"You know, if you keep making that face, it will freeze that way. Says so right here."

"You can't even see my face."

"No, but I can _feel_ it. Whatever Hatsu said in that note has you in a sour mood. Are you going to tell me now what it was?" Yemon asked, marking his place in the book and closing it on his lap.

Kisa was starting to feel that befriending him had been a mistake. Two months ago, he submitted to her with reverent fear, and now he had the audacity to tell her what to do.

 _He's already issuing doctor's orders_ , she smiled despite herself. Over the past few weeks, he had committed himself to the medical profession mind, heart, and soul. She was sure he would become Amegakure's surgeon general in no time.

"All he said was that Amegakure was experiencing a drought."

Yemon frowned. "What does that mean?"

"No idea, but it doesn't sound good."

"If you're right, what will you do? You're not going to fight, are you?"

Kisa clenched her fists. There was no pain now, but despite her best efforts, the skin around her fingers and wrists remained stiff. Even still, they could still pack a punch in a pinch. While she accepted that her old life as a kunoichi was over, she was ready to call upon it if needed.

"We'll see."

Hours later, once they had crossed the border onto the Amegakure plains, the two travelers were met with the comforting sound of pelting rain.

"There's certainly no drought here."

"And just look how bustling that village is up ahead," Yemon said, pointing out the window. "It's like the entire town is out and about." Ahead, dozens of men, women, and children shuffled along the streets forming long lines in front of small tents.

"What are they doing?"

"The only time I've seen a set up like this is when I was conscripted into the shinobi service. We lined up at tents like these. But it doesn't make sense. Most of these people don't look like good candidates for shinobi. They're too old or too young."

Kisa blanched. "Are we preparing for war? Is our need for shinobi that dire? Let's pull over and ask."

"I don't want anyone to know you're here. We're in no position to defend ourselves if it causes an ambush. We'll pass through other villages before we reach the capital. Let's observe them before we do anything rash."

Settling back into their seats, Yemon and Kisa watched silently as village after village rolled by, all teeming with foot traffic and makeshift tents. By the time the carriage reached the capital's gate, Kisa's heart pounded with anxiety and suspense, making the wait at the customs line feel extra long.

 _Interminably_ long.

"Yemon. Why have we stopped? Investigate." Before Yemon could even lift himself from his seat, the carriage door suddenly swung open.

"Because, dear sister, _I've_ stopped you."

With the finesse of a cat, Hatsuharu squeezed himself inside, pushed a pile of gifts to the floor, and took a seat beside Yemon.

"So good to see you both. DRIVE ON," he instructed the driver with a few raps of his fist against the ceiling. "I see you got my note. I'm impressed by your speed. I sent that condor off less than twenty-four hours ago."

"Mind telling us why you sent it?" Yemon asked.

"In a moment. First, let's see how you've healed, little sister," he said, gently taking one of Kisa's bandaged hands in his own. "Still not feeling one hundred percent?"

"That doesn't matter. I can do what needs to be done should Father need my help. Now, no more delay. What's this about? In every village we passed, villagers are lined up in the streets. What's going on here? And why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Hatsuharu's features darkened. "This is a new development. Our father recently made a . . . strategic alliance that is turning Amegakure upside down."

"A strategic alliance with _who_?"

"Kandachi's band."

Yemon's eyes widened in rage. "That's absurd! That man destroyed my village and dozens more!"

"Yemon's right," Kisa said, trying to keep her voice calm. "He must have another plan, an ulterior motive to lure them into a trap."

"I knew you'd say something like that." Hatsuharu raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Believe me, his only plan with this move is revenge. Since you left, there have been no breakthroughs finding the Akatsuki. Then, one day last week, Kandaichi showed up on our front steps and offered to help in exchange for a seat of power. Father jumped at the offer. Ever since, Kandaichi has led a campaign of inquisitions across the countryside, trying to smoke the Akatsuki out."

"And why hasn't Kanzo done anything? What haven't _you_ done anything, _General?_ " Kisa's eyes narrowed into angry slits.

"Since he refused to participate in this goose chase, Kanzo's been demoted. Kandaichi is Father's right hand man, now. I've led my own investigation, but my resources are running low while I simultaneously monitor Kandaichi and his goons to find out what they're up to. This is why I need you. Father won't listen to me on this matter, so I need you to keep your eyes on him."

"How _dare_ you doubt our father. He doesn't need to be watched like as errant child. I blame _you_ for allowing these serpents into our father's house, not him."

"I don't give a damn who you blame. The fact is we need someone to flush them out, and that person's not going to be Father without help."

"Well you're not going to get it from me. I trust his judgment and will not betray him."

Hatsuharu sighed. "He's not the same man, Kisa. His judgment is clouded by grief, stress, rage, sleep deprivation, you name it. He won't admit he needs help."

"I will help him, but refuse to be your pawn. Now stop this carriage immediately!" She signaled to their driver. "I will walk from here."

"I wouldn't recommend that." Hatsuharu raised a finger in protest. "Kandaichi's men are guarding the front door. I suggest we take a side entrance."

"Like I said," Kisa swung the door wide in defiance, "I am not your pawn. I will enter the rightful door as lady of this house." With wide strides, Kisa sped through the main gate and up to the front door before the boys could even think of pursuing her. The guards, frightened by the young woman's stormy expression, quickly stepped aside and opened the double doors for her, allowing her to stride into the entryway.

"Not so fast, my lady."

Surprised by the voice of a man she had not sensed when she entered, Kisa stopped in alarm and annoyance. The man, now behind her, was tall with short, dark hair. He was older, likely in his thirties, with a thin face and a wide, cruel mouth. A strange birthmark or scar covered his right eye. Though she had never seen him before, she immediately knew who he was.

"Lady Kisa, I presume? I'm Kandachi," he said, reaching for her hand to bring it to his lips. " _General_ Kandachi."

Quickly, Kisa pulled a kunai hidden in her sleeve and angled it under the trespasser's throat.

"You will not touch me. You will not speak to me. And you will certainly never kiss me. I don't know what your plans are for my father, but rest assured, I will discover them and cast you out. You belong in a prison, not my foyer."

"And if you try anything, you'll also answer to me," Yemon's voice boomed as he finally caught up.

While Kisa doubted Yemon was a match for the infamous gorilla warrior, she was grateful for his arrival. To those that didn't know the gentle giant, Yemon could be imposing. Even Kisa felt a chill down her spine as she caught a glimpse at the anger and hatred behind his dark eyes. The intimidation must have worked on Kandaichi, because he sized her friend up with a wary eye.

"You look familiar, boy. Have we met before?"

"No. But I do resemble my father, who you murdered at the Village Hidden in the Mines."

Kandaichi laughed. "Who, me? Couldn't be. I'd never invade such a backwater village. You must be mistaken. Lady Kisa, it appears you've heard some nasty rumors about me, no doubt, but your opinion of me will change in time. You and I," he purred, wrapping his long fingers around her shoulders, "we're going to be good friends. Ta-ta for now," he waved before vanishing in a plume of smoke.

"I'm not leaving you here with that bastard," Yemon growled.

"Forget him for now. I must see Father immediately." Nodding in agreement, Yemon escorted her through the compound to the central elevator and up to Hanzo's office apartments.

Kisa took deep breaths to steady her anger and fear. Conditions in Amegakure had been worse than she expected. Now, she almost wished the country _was_ at war instead of partially under the leadership of a domestic terrorist. At least war was familiar. War, she knew how to do.

Yemon rested his warm, comforting hand on her shoulder. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Kisa blinked. To her surprise and dread, they'd already reached their floor.

"No, you may go. I'll call you if you're needed."

He nodded. "Good luck."

Stepping out of the elevator, Kisa wandered the eerily silent halls of her father's work rooms. Usually, they buzzed with shinobi and politicians planning, debating, and running to and fro with mail and reports. Today, not a soul stirred.

At the end of the hall, Kisa reached her father's private office. After giving the doorframe a customary knock, she let herself in.

"Father? I'm home."

Inside, Hanzo sat behind his desk. Or at least she thought he did. The room and desk were so cluttered with papers, he was almost hard to spot. He leaned on both elbows between two stacks, staring blankly at the document before him. Several empty sake bowls littered the desk. She wondered when he had emptied them.

"You shouldn't have left. You did not have my permission."

"I was wrong to leave without telling you. I have no excuse other than I wanted to seize an opportunity to heal these arms so I could be useful again."

"I don't want you to be useful," he said, standing. "I want you to be _safe_." Reaching her, he pulled her into a strong, warm embrace.

Kisa felt her eyes prickle with tears. "I'm sorry, Father." Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed by guilt far more painful than any words of scorn.

"You're not to leave this house again without my permission, understood? Doctors can come to you. Leave the Akatsuki and our enemies to me. I have new allies hunting them down. It won't be long now."

Kisa wanted to protest, to scream and shout that trusting Kandaichi with anything was a mistake, but then she would be just like her brother. Their father didn't need rebellion right now, he needed support. _He knows what he's doing_ , she reminded herself. _We must have faith in him_.

"Yes, Father. Their days are numbered. In the meantime, let me help you with this paperwork."


	43. Chapter 43

_Three Years Later . . ._

"Remind me again what we're doing?" Kanzo asked, interrupting the two, chatty thirteen-year-olds ahead of him.

"Since the forecast isn't calling for rain today, a mission in the countryside," Ami said. "Kyo and I needed a third for our squad."

"And how long do you expect this mission to last?"

 _Not that it mattered_. After his fall from grace, Kanzo found himself at the bottom of a bureaucratic totem pole. On days when he wasn't approving security patrol reports from the sewers, he stared bleakly out the window watching Kandaichi's control over the city grow. Ami and Kyo may have wanted him around to save them in a pinch, but really, they were the ones saving him.

Kyo shrugged. "Sundown? Until it's too dark to keep looking."

"Looking for what?"

Kyo and Ami stopped and exchanged a bashful glance.

"We were hoping you would help us find my mother," Kyo explained.

"We've already searched everywhere in the city, so we think Lord Hanzo may have buried her in the countryside."

"Sorry we didn't tell you," Kyo apologized. "We were afraid you might say it was a waste of time and refuse to help us."

A waste of time? _No_. Kyo had a right to know where his mother was buried. Concealing that information from the children was just one of many poor and peculiar decisions Hanzo had made over the past few years. Witnessing this decline in his old friend's judgment pained as well as worried him. He had devoted his career to seeing Hanzo unite the country, but the Hanzo he supported then was a very different man today.

"No, not at all. To be honest, I'm glad you've given me an opportunity to stretch these old legs. I'm just concerned that you two have so much free time. You need to be training or out in the field gaining experience." _Kyo especially_. Kanzo feared Hanzo may have let his youngest son's training fall through the cracks, a bad sign for the future leadership of Amegakure.

"So you'll help us?"

"Of course. Though I do wonder why you've both developed this sudden interest."

"It's not sudden," Ami protested. "I've been looking for her for years. I have so much to tell her about our orphanage! It's almost tripled in size, and there are so many new faces. And I never thanked her," she added sheepishly. "You know, for saving me."

Kyo had much to tell her as well, though he preferred not to confide in his companions. He preferred not to confide in anyone. Since his mother passed, nothing had been the same. His father was distant and cold, spending hours locked away in his office guarded by a half dozen men. He couldn't remember the last time he and Hanzo had trained together, or if his father was still training at all. When Kandaichi began overseeing their forces, he noticed that Hanzo had almost retired entirely from shinobi life.

Hatsuharu and Kisa were out of the question as well. While Hatsuharu would often disappear for days, Kisa rarely had a moment to speak with him between her meetings and paperwork. His siblings had become strangers to him, and to each other. Disagreements over how to handle their father and run the country had caused a deep rift between his older brother and sister, Kyo was beginning to realize.

"So where are we off to look? If you think I have the answer, you're out of luck. Your father left me with no hints," Kanzo said, rousing Kyo from his gloomy thoughts.

"I've already checked the grounds of our country home, and I don't think she's there. Father sometimes vanishes for a day to visit her, I think, so wherever she is must be around the city. Ami and I decided to check the old temple by the woods first."

"The same temple where Rika is buried?" Kanzo stroked his chin in thought.

"Yes! Maybe he wanted her to be with her friend." Ami said.

"I visit there often and haven't seen any sign of her, but of course, I didn't think to look. It's a good starting point if nothing else. This is actually quite convenient. While you two look around, I can visit Rika."

In agreement, the three set out on the two-hour journey to the countryside temple. Bolstered by his friend's lively conversation and the cool, late autumn air, Kyo felt his spirits return. They progressed quickly, reaching the base of the hill in the early afternoon. Thick brush and tress lined the ancient stairwell, shading it in a canopy of gold and crimson.

"Race you to the top," Ami said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You're on. But watch out, I'm taller than you now," Kyo said proudly, happy to have finally risen half a foot over Ami in the past year.

"Height has nothing to do with it, Kyo," Kanzo said cryptically. "I'll start you off. On your mark!" Ami and Kyo readied their stance, positioning their feet to spring into action on Kanzo's word. "Get set! _GO!_ "

Kyo ran, his recently lengthened legs carrying him up the stairs three at a time. _And Kanzo didn't think height mattered?_ The old man must be senile.

He was winning. As soon as he was confident in his lead, he glanced backwards to see how far back Ami was trailing him. To his alarm, Ami had vanished. Eyes darting frantically to locate his adversary while he kept pace, he was suddenly disturbed by shower of leaves.

 _Of course,_ he realized. Ami had chosen to take the high road. Above him and now far ahead, she bounded from limb to limb. If he had a moment to spare, he would have slapped himself for not thinking to do the same. Instead, he launched himself into the air in pursuit, but he knew it was all over. Within moments, Ami had reached the shrine gate. Standing proudly with both hands on her hips, she beamed at him with a triumphant grin.

"Well done, Miss Tsukuda," Kanzo called, making his way up the stairs at a leisurely pace. "Remember, Master Kyo, it's important for a shinobi to think outside the box and to find the path with the least resistance."

"Yeah, Kyo," Ami taunted. "Stop being such a block head."

Kyo was about to retort when he noticed an elderly man, rushing out from the temple.

" _GET OFF OF THERE YOU HOOLIGAN_ ," he wheezed at Ami. "That gate marks the transition from the profane to sacred!"

"Yeah, Ami. Stop profaning the gate with your dirty shoes."

Shooting Kyo and even dirtier look, Ami complied.

"Forgive my young charges, old friend," Kanzo said. "We've come to pay our respects to some friends of ours. The young ones are over excited."

"Those monkeys don't know the meaning of the word 'respect,'" the monk pointed at them accusingly with his twisted, wooden cane. "They're not here to visit the dead. They're here to wake them with their obnoxious prattle."

"It's not prattle, it's important!" Kyo protested. "I need to talk to my mother."

"To tell her what? That you learned how to tie your sandals? That you got a boo-boo and need her to kiss it better? Listen young man, the dead don't like to be disturbed with your problems. They have more important things to do, like nap."

Kyo wondered if they had disturbed his.

"Alright, alright," Kanzo said soothingly. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them. They'll be so quiet, you won't even know they're here."

The monk made a dubious face. "Just tell 'em to stay off the graves! If I see a single shoe print, I'm making them scrub every single one of them," he threatened before ambling away.

"Best do what he says, kids. There are over four thousand graves at this shrine."

"Four thousand?" Ami's eyes widened. "Searching them will take all afternoon!"

"Then you'd better get started. I'm going to visit Rika. When you've finished, I'll be waiting for you by the front gate."

"We'll go with you to visit Rika," Kyo said. "It's the best place to start looking anyway." Following Kanzo's lead, the two teens walked with him into the vast maze of stone memorials. Rika's ashes were buried along the third highest row with other new graves. Reverently, the three worked together to weed the site and clean her stone with a damp cloth. That done, each lit a candle, knelt, and prayed to their fallen friend.

At length, Kyo felt a soft hand on his shoulder. Silently, Ami motioned for them to leave to allow Kanzo and his daughter's spirit some privacy. Kyo agreed with a shake of his head.

"Let's split up," he said once they were far enough from Kanzo not to disturb him. "You take the newer graves, and I'll start at the bottom. I doubt she's down there, but if my father wanted to be sneaky, he may have hidden her with the older markers."

Ami looked disappointed. "That's a good idea, I guess." Meandering through a graveyard in silence all by herself wasn't her idea of a good time, but it would expedite the process. "I'll meet you in the middle!"

Relieved, Kyo nodded and headed down the hill. As much as he enjoyed Ami's company, he wanted some privacy of his own as he wandered row by row, reading names and dates while looking for stones that seemed out of place. Something the old monk said had upset him. _Was he bothering his mother with his problems?_ If she was listening, hearing his dismal report would only upset her. And it wasn't like there was anything she could do for him or his family. This whole exercise, he realized, was just a huge waste of time.

Feeling less motivated, he stopped skimming names and just focused on the age of the stones themselves. Soon, he lost interest in even that and, defeated, made his way to the center row and perched on a low stone.

Ami, more diligent in her search, joined him over an hour later.

"She's not at my end. Any luck?"

"No," he said spinning a kunai around his finger aimlessly. "It's probably just as well. Like the old man said, the dead don't want to be disturbed with our problems."

"You let that old geezer get to you?" She asked in disbelief. "Of course they do! Imagine how bored they must be. When I'm dead, I hope someone cares enough about me to feed me drama."

"That's another thing. Amegakure and my family's drama would just upset her. Now that I think about it, I'd rather not find her until I have better things to report."

"You have a point," she admitted, taking a seat next to him. "Although she'd be glad to see you, I'm sure she'd like to hear some good news from home, like if Kisa was getting married."

"Kisa? More like Hatsu. If she found out he never planned to 'settle down,' she'd roll in her grave."

"Or that your father had built a dozen orphanages and hospitals in her honor."

Kyo snorted. "Or that he had finally reunited Amegakure."

Both fell silent as Kyo's implication dawned on them. In his youth, Hanzo had vowed to end Amegakure's civil war and unite the shinobi nations as one. Over time, he conceded it had been too great a task and redoubled his efforts to end the Rain nation's war. However, those efforts too had seemed to fall by the wayside. Hanzo had never said anything. No one had said anything, but everyone thought the same. The fact that he hadn't lifted a finger to squelch a rebellion in months confirmed it. Hanzo was losing steam and had lost his conviction.

"You don't think he'll do it?"

"No," he admitted quietly. "Not anymore."

Ami felt a sudden chill. It disturbed her to hear the rumors about one of her childhood heroes confirmed, by his own son no less. She wanted to chastise Kyo. Tell him he was foolish not to believe in Hanzo, but deep down, she knew she agreed with him. Admitting that to herself felt like treason.

For a time, they sat in depressed silence contemplating their country's uncertain future.

"You're right Kyo. This isn't a problem Lady Shiori can solve. And if Hanzo won't, then it's up to us to unite Amegakure."

"Even if I wanted to, how could I succeed where my father failed? I know this will probably surprise you," he smiled, "but I don't think even _I_ could ever be stronger than him."

"Because _you_ aren't, silly. _We_ are. Your dad's already done most of the work. There are only a few parts of the country still rebelling. All he needs is some youthful energy. It's not about being stronger. It's about thinking outside the box."

Kyo rolled his eyes. "Then I guess it's a good thing my mother dragged you into my life."

"Then we'll do this?" She asked, raising her pinky to his face.

"Yeah," he said, wrapping his own around her finger in promise, "let's do this!"

Now optimistic, the two energetically swapped ideas and plans, careful once they reached the shrine to tiptoe around the old monk who had resumed his nap. Although they had technically failed their mission, they descended the temple steps to join Kanzo in high spirits.

Kanzo did not return them. His solemn expression stopped them in their tracks.

"Is something wrong?" Ami asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I've sent a condor for more information, but I think there may be a disturbance in the city."

"Why?" Kyo asked, wondering how Kanzo could have heard news from home when they'd been at the temple all afternoon.

"Because _that,_ " Ami pointed.

Kyo followed Ami's finger towards the direction of Amegakure's skyline. There, an angry, black cloud had formed around the city's tallest tower.

A pit formed in Kyo's stomach.

 _The forecast had not called for rain._


End file.
